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TRAVELERS  SERIES  NUMBER  SEVEN       j 

iiHiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii iiiiiiiiiin iiiiiiniiiiiiiiiJ iiiiniiiiii iiiiiiiitiii iiiniii iriiiiiiiiiiiiiii'. 


I 


The  Escape  and  Wand- 
erings of  J.  Wilkes  Booth 
Until  Ending   of  the 
Trail  by  Suicide 
in  Oklahoma 


The  Way  of  the 
Transgressor  is  Hard 


PRICE  $2.00 


1 1  t"— 


Copyright    1922 
BY  W.  P-  CAMPBELL 
Oklahoma  City.  Okla. 
All  Rights  Reserved 


1 


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»■•>■•_»■■— >aM->n^i»>rMa^>a>o^n—ii<^ii^ 


Capt.  E.   P.   Dougherty  in  command   of 
Pursuing  Party. 


Lieutenant  L.  B.  Baker,  Col.  L.  C.  Baker  and  Everton 

Conger  planning  systematic  effort  to  capture 

Booth  and  Herrold. 


^'i 


i^ 


***%Jt  t^''' 


-'-^^^5^^ 


The  Nine  "Conspirators." 


Julius  Brutus  Booth,  broth-     Julius   Brutus   Booth,   Sr., 
er   of   J.   Wilkes   Booth  father  of  J.  Wilkes  Booth. 


THE  lamurpiED  han-d  of  john   wilkes  boots. 

AS  Read  By  Prof    Bentley  Sage. 


"John  St.  Helen,"   1877 


"%*^^^^*v     «4^A< 


Finis  L.  Bates,  IS77 


W  .   I'.  Campbell,  1921 


Oklahoma  the  Mecca  for  Men  of  Mystery 


JOHN  WILKES  BOOTH 

ESCAPE  AND  WANDERINGS  UNTIL  FINAL  ENDING 

OF    THE    TRAIL    BY    SUICIDE    AT    ENID, 

OKLAHOMA,  JANUARY  12,  19C3 


<Sa^^ 


WANDERINGS  OF  J.  WILKES  BOOTH 


FOREWORD 


This  story  is  much  in  the  nature  of  a  court  suit  where- 
in one  Boston  Corl)ett  is  accused  of  killing  one  J.  Wilkes 
Booth  at  what  is  designated  as  the  Garrett  home  in  Virginia 
on  the  25th  of  April,  1865.  After  the  prosecution  has 
introduced  its  evidence  and  "rested,"  and  the  defense  has 
introduced  its  defense  and  the  arguments  are  in,  it  will  be 
up  to  the  readers  as  jurymen  to  decide  whether  the  defend- 
ed is  guilty  as  charged  and  render  their  verdict  accordingly. 
Under  court  rules,  the  prosecution  has  the  right  to  the 
opening  and  tlie  closing  of  the  case;  but  in  this  particular 
"suit,"  the  prosecution  will  say  all  its  say  and  permit  the 
defense  to  close  the  "argument."  First,  there  is  no  "corpus 
delicti"  claimed.  That  Corbett  killed  a  "man"  at  the  Gar- 
rett home  on  the  day  alleged  is  not  denied.  But,  like  the 
question  of  an  umbrella  being  personal  property — the  court 
decided  that  it  is,  but  hasn't  decided  whose.  Neither  is  the 
question  as  to  the  killing  of  President  Lincoln  at  issue,  nor 
is  it  as  to  who  did  the  killing.  These  are  admitted  and 
therefore  not  an  issue.  On  behalf  of  the  prosecution,  Gen. 
David  A.  Dana  will  be  introduced;  or  rather  a  letter  from 
him  written  from  his  Lubec,  Maine,  home  and  published 
in  the  Boston  Globe  of  November  12,  1897.  But  before 
introducing  this  letter — 

Now  imagine  if  you  will  a  large  wall  card  of  the 
Equitable  Insurance  Company  on  which  is  a  picture  of 
Ahe  National  Capitol  and  surroundings,  including  the  navy 
yard  and  approaches  to  the  east  Potomac  bridge,  and.  a 
strip  of  Potomac  country  some  miles  south  and  southeast. 
Then  imagine  a  rather  tall  man  slightly  stooped  from  the 
care  of  years,  dressed  in  a  Prince  Albert,  buttoned  at  the 
center,  wide  brimmed  rather  low  crowned  black  hat,  and 
immaculate  black  tie  from  which  flashes  a  small  jet.  Raven 
hair  reaching  to  the  shoulders  and  \vith  a  wavy  trend;  black 
imperial  mustache,  a  rattan  cane  which  he  of  seeming  habit 
keeps  twirling  in  the  right  hand  between  thumb  and  fore- 
finger as  he  paces  meditatively  to  and  fro.  Now  he  stop* 
in  front  of  the  capitol  picture  and  settling  back  on  his 
heels  gives  the  card  a  punch  with  the  end  of  his  cane  as 
though  he  would  punch  a  hole  through  it.  Then  as  he 
approaches  it,  "Were  you  ever  there?"  he  turns  to  his 
questioner  with  fixed  and  piercing  eyes  as  he  gives  a  crisp, 
"Yes,"  fairly  through  clenched  teeth.  "And  I  shall  never 
forget  it."  Here  he  drops  the  subject  and  sauntering  up 
the  room  a  few  feet  rests  his  eyes  on  a  large  wall  map  of 
the  United  States.  First,  however,  tracing  with  his  cane 
to  the  east  Potomac  bridge,  resting  the  cane  at  the  farther 
end  a  brief  moment.     Then  tracing  down  the  stream  until 


O     o      ' 


^'  WANDERINGS  OF  J    WILKES  BOOTH 


his  cane  rests  at  a  point  where  he  dwells,  remarking:  "The 
Sekiah  Swamp.  Great  place  for  an  escaping  man.  Just 
wade  in  a  way  and  then  down  to  a  rocky  beach  with  fallen 
leaves  in  which  all  footprints  are  lost  on  passing  out  of 
the  marsli  until  reaching  the  road  again."  Again  resting 
the  point  i.f  the  cone.  From  thence  on  the  large  map  a 
distance  where  he  lingers  quite  a  spell;  thence  with  occas- 
ional stoppings  southwesterly  through  Kentucky  and 
Tennessee  and  into  the  edges  of  Mississippi  until  he 
leachfs  a  point  crossing  the  Mississippi  a  few  miles  below 
where  the  Arkansas  empties  into  it.  Some  distance  along 
the  eastern  banks  of  the  Arkansas  to  a  point  presumably 
near  Fort  Gibson  where  he  hesitates  a  while,  then  crosses 
and  traces  up  the  stream  where  he  halts,  withdraws  his  cane 
from  the  map,  and  buries  himself  in  deep  meditation.  Then 
pointing  his  cane  to  the  map  traces  across  what  was  then 
Indian  Territory,  northeast  through  what  evidently  is  now 
Oklahoma,  Kingfisher  and  Blaine  counties,  passing  out  of 
the  territory  and  into  Kansas  near  Kiowa;  thence  in  a 
northeasterly  direction  to  a  point  not  far  south  of  Omaha, 
where  he  again  takes  the  cane  from  the  map  and  again 
muses  to  himself.  Next  he  traces  westerly  through  the 
then  wilds  of  Nebraska  and  Colorado  and  into  Utah  until 
near  Salt  Lake  City  where  he  veers  more  directly  west- 
ward, resting  at  San  Francisco.  Thence  down  the  coast 
through  Fresno,  near  Los  Angeles,  and  into  Mexico.  An- 
other reflective  pause,  after  which  the  tracing  is  continued 
from  point  to  point  in  Aztec  land.  Finally  the  tracing 
ends  at  about  the  point  where  Fort  Worth  stands.  Here 
he  leaves  oif  tracing  and  paces  a  few  moments,  twirling 
his  cane  with  one  hand  as  he  meditatively  twists  at  hir; 
mustache  with  the  other,  turning  with  the  remark:  "Ver 
ily,  a   rolling  stone  gathers  no  moss." 


GENERAL   DANA'S   VERSION 

The  letter  was  to  the  Boston  Sunday  Globe  and  ws 
run  in  that  publicatirn  in  the  issue  of  December  6,  1877. 
Among  other  things  Mr.  Dana  declares  that  in  the  spring  of 
1865  he  had  headquarters  at  Fort  Baker,  near  Washington 
City,  .just  above  the  east  branch  of  the  Potomac  and  with'n- 
the  lines  of  the  Third  Brigade  of  Harding's  Divisirn, 
Twenty-second  Corps,  commanded  by  Gen.  C.  C.  Augnr, 
under  whom  he,  Dana,  was  provost  with  authority  over- 
nearly  all  of  that  portion  of  Maryland  between  East  Pt)t'^-- 
mac  and  Patuxent.  At  this  time  that  part  of  the  state  wis 
alive  with  rebels  and  Dana  was  commissioned  to  watch  all 
their  movements.  While  patroling  this  country,  says  Dana,- 
he  learned  of  a  plot  against  the  Federal  government,  auvt 
that    the    stroke    would    probably    be    aimed    at     President. 


4  WANDERINGS  OF  J.  WILKES  BOOTH 

Lincoln.  Dana  at  once  asked  for  a  troop  of  veteran  cavalry 
in  addition  to  the  regular  provost  guard,  and  the  request 
was  granted.  He  established  a  line  of  pickets  from  Fort 
Meigs  on  the  left  to  a  point  on  the  right  and  gave  orders  to 
let  none  enter  the  city  of  Wa§hington  during  the  day  who 
could  not  give  a  satisfactory  account  of  business  at  the 
Capitol,  while  from  sunrise  to  sundown  no  one  should  be 
permitted  to  enter  or  leave  the  city  except  in  case  of  sick- 
ness or  death.  All  suspicious  persons  were  to  be  arrested 
and  sent  to  the  Commanding  General  for  investigation. 

April  14  two  men  appeared  before  the  guard  on  the 
road  leading  to  Washington  from  the  east.  Refusing  to 
give  their  names  they  were  arrested  and  placed  in  the 
guard  tent  from  whence  they  were  sent  to  headquarters. 
This  was  about  one  o'clock  in  the  afternoon.  In  the  course 
of  an  hour  or  two  they  gave  their  names  as  Booth  and 
Herrold. 

About  two  o'clock  p.  m.  Dana  received  orders  from 
General  Augur  to  release  all  prisoners  and  to  withdraw 
the  guards  until  further  orders.  Dana  then  sent  an  orderly 
to  the  officers  on  the  line  from  Fort  Meigs  easterly  with 
orders  to  release  all  prisoners  and  report  to  him  at  Fort 
Baker.  On  the  line  from  Meigs  to  Surrattsville,  Dana  says, 
he  went  in  person  and  withdrew  the  guards  to  his  head- 
quarters and  that  Booth  and  Herrold  were  released  as 
soon  as  the  orders  reached  the  guards;  that  they  at  once 
proceeded  to  the  capitol  arriving  there  about  6:30  p.  m. 
Dana  says  he  had  guards  at  each  end  of  the  bridge  and 
that  one  guard  knew  Booth  personally  and  recognized  him 
afterwards  while  riding  from  the  capitol  soon  after  the 
assassinatirin.  Dana  says  he  returned  to  Fort  Baker  at 
11  p.  m.  and  was  eating  supper  when  an  officer  rode  into 
■camp  with  the  news  that  the  President  had  been  shot  and 
the  assailant  and  another  man  had  ridden  at  a  rapid  pace 
into  the  country.  The  guards  were  at  once  called  and  a 
■detachment  sent  in  different  directions,  after  which  Dana 
:says  he  went  to  the  bridge  to  learn  what  he  could  there; 
that  on  his  way  back  he  met  a  tronp  of  cavalry,  the  13th  of 
New  York,  which  was  ordered  to  patrol  the  river  as  far  as 
Guisi  Point  and  there  learn  all  they  could  and  return  to 
Fort  Baker.  At  the  bridare  he  found  an  orderly  with  orders 
from  AuGTur  to  report  without  delay,  which  he  did,  and  %vas 
ushered  into  the  General's  presence,  who  was  at  his  desk 
with  streaming  eyes. 

"My  God."  Augur  cries,  "if  I  had  listened  to  your 
advice  this  terrible  thing  would  not  have  happened.''  (Now, 
what  was  that  advice?)  After  a  brief  conference  Dana 
was  appointed  adjutant-general  on  Augur's  staff  with  orders 
to  use  his  own  judgment  as  to  the  best  way  to  capture  the 


WANDERIXCJS  OF  .1    WILKES  BOOTH 5 

perpetrators.  'Commanders  of  all  divisions  were  directed 
to  observe  all  orders  of  Dana  as  though  especially  issued 
by  the  Commanding  General.  The  first  order  was  that  the 
swiftest  steamer  obtainable  should  patrol  the  Potomac  as 
far  as  the  Patuxent  and  seize  all  boats  that  could  not  give 
satisfactory  account.  Tlien  a  steamer  should  be  sent  up 
the  Patuxent  and  all  the  boats  on  that  river  were  to  be 
seized  as  far  as  Horsehead  Ferry.  As  a  reason,  Dana  savs, 
he  had  while  scouting  through  Maryland  learned  that  a 
boat  would  be  used  by  the  assassins  who  would  go  by 
•land  to  the  Patuxent,  thence  across  Albert  river  and  on  into 
old  Mexico. 

Dana  returned  to  Fort  Baker  where  he  left  essential 
orders,  after  which  he,  with  the  cavalry  then  scouting  and 
a  small  detachment  of  his  own,  started  on  the  chase  taking 
the  road  by  way  of  Surrattsville  to  Bryantown.  As  they 
passed  through  the  former  place  all  was  dark;  but  an  old 
man  and  woman  were  found  who  had  a  boy  sick  with 
smallpox.  Failing  to  obtain  any  information,  the  old  man 
was  taken  into  a  patch  of  woods  and  strung  up  to  a  limb. 
It  was  a  clear  night  with  the  moon  just  rising,  its  silver 
tints  gleaming  on  the  tree  tops  and  the  flickering  of  the 
campfire  casting  fantastic  shadows  here  and  there.  Indeed, 
what  a  weird  and  gruesome  scene  it  must  have  been,  there 
in  the  glare  of  the  campfire  and  of  the  moon  the  body  of 
a  man  struggling  in  a  spasmodic  effort  to  free  himself  from 
the  tightening  noose.  After  a  few  moments,  says  Dana, 
the  man  was  ordered  lowered.  Rather  than  pass  through  a 
second  suspension  the  man  said  that  Booth  and  Herrold 
had  taken  something  to  eat  at  Surrattsville,  Booth  seeming 
to  be  badly  hurt.  They  remounted  and  rode  toward  Bryan- 
town,  to  where  the  Dana  posse  pushed  reins.  A  few  miles 
from  Bryantown  a  detachment  of  ten  men  under  a  sergeant 
as  patrol  guards  to  watch  for  suspicious  persons  in  that 
section,  was  met.  From  there  the  Dana  party  went  directly 
to  Port  Tobacco  and  gave  orders  for  the  men  to  report 
to  him  at  Bryantown.  He  ordered  the  troops  to  scour  up 
the  Patuxent  and  arrest  all  suspicious  persons  and  report 
to  him.  The  guards  afterward  admitted  that  they  heard 
the  clatter  of  Booth's  and  Herrold's  horses  hoofs  as  they 
passed  by  the  road  leading  to  Dr.  Samuel  Mudd's  toward 
Bryantown,  where  Dana  says  he  arrived  about  6  o'clock 
p.  m.  and  placed  guards  on  all  the  roads  leading  into  the 
village  with  orders  that  anyone  might  enter  but  none  could 
leave.  About  2  o'clock  that  afternoon  the  detachment  of 
troops  from  Port  Tobacco  returned  to  Bryantown.  Mean- 
time troops  had  been  sent  to  Woodbine  and  Horsehead 
ferries  and  all  boats  had  been  seized  and  all  crossings 
stopped.     By  taking  possession  of  these  .positions  and  seiz- 


WAXDERIN'GS  OF  J    WII.KES  BOOTH 


ing  the  ferry   boats  the   river  was   thoroughly   guarded   and 
patroled. 

After  Booth  and  Herrold  arrived  at  Dr.  Mudd's,  accord- 
ing' to  Dana,  tlie  riding  boot  was  slit  and  drawn  from 
Booth's  wounded  limb,  after  which  the  leg  was  bandaged 
and  splinted  with  pieces  of  a  cigar  box,  and  a  crutch  was 
made  from  a  broom  handle.  After  breakfast  arrangements 
were  made  for  flight  on  the  instant,  should  anything  happen 
to  artmse  fear  of  too  close  pursuit.  Dr.  Mudd  came  into 
Bryantown  about  two  o'clock  in  the  afternoon  and  re- 
mained until  near  nine  that  night,  when  Dr.  George  Mudd,, 
cousin  of  Dr.  Samuel  Mudd,  approached  Dana  and  asked 
ffs  a  personal  favor  that  Dr.  Samuel  Mudd  be  passed  through 
the  lines,   and   the   favor  was   granted. 

During  the  long  absence  of  Dr.  Samuel  Mudd  Booth 
and  Herrold  grew  uneasy,  and  the  latter  rode  to  near 
Bryantown  where  he  hitched  his  horse  to  a  willow  on  the 
banks  of  a  small  stream  that  coursed  by  and  watched  for 
the  doctor  to  emerge  through  the  lines,  after  which  the  two 
returned  to  the  Miukl  home,  where  the  fugitives  remained 
for  the  night.  Here  Mr.  Dana  interpolates  that  having 
learned  that  the  two  doctors  were  cousins  and  rank  rebels, 
he  summoned  Dr.  George  Mudd,  and  then  and  there,  to  use 
Mr.  Dana's  own  words,  "I  told  him  plainly  what  I  thought 
of  liim."  Now  wasn't  that  awful,  to  actually  scold  the 
wicked  and  perverse  rebel,  and  thus  fritter  away  time? 

The  fugitives  left  Dr.  Mudd's  next  morning  and  took 
the  road  for  Horsehead  ferry.  When  in  two  and  a  half 
miles  of  there  they  saw  a  man  about  sixty  years  of  age 
leaning  on  a  fence  in  front  of  his  house,  and  from  him  they 
gained  the  information  that  Booth  rode  up  and  asked  for 
a  drink  of  water  and  also  for  a  drink  of  whiskey,  but  of 
the  latter  the  old  man  had  none.  On  inquiry  from  the  old 
gentleman  Booth  said  he  had  heard  of  the  death  of  the 
President  from  some  troops,  and  asked  if  there  were  any 
troops  at  the  ferry.  Being  told  that  there  were,  he  said 
that  he  and  his  partner  were  detectives  in  search  of  Booth 
and  Herrold.  When  asked  what  he  was  doing  with  a 
crutch  Bo0th  replied  that  his  horse  had  fallen  on  him. 
They  then  asked  the  way  to  Woodbine  Ferry  and  started 
in  that  direction  under  spur.  When  within  two  miles  of 
Woodbine  they  met  an  old  darkey  from  whom  they  inquired 
the  distance  to  the  ferry,  and  being  told  they  asked  the 
news,  to  which  the  old  darkey  held  up  his  hands:  "Masse 
Lincum  done  been  killed  an  Woodbine  Ferry's  chock  full 
o'  troops."  When  asked  how  many  the  old  darkey  replied, 
"Golly  massa  they's  swarmin'  like  bees."  The  two  horse- 
men rode  on  a  short  distance  and  into  a  mowing  field 
where    all    trace    of    them    was   lost.      But    thev    returned    to 


WANDERINGS  OF  J    WII^KES  BOOTH 


the  vicinity  of  Dr.  Mudd's  and  entered  the  Sekiah  Swamp 
from  the  east,  where  they  spent  two  days  and  nights. 

Dana  says  he  made  arrangements  for  troops  to  scour 
the  swamps,  but  a  heavy  storm  made  it  impossible.  On 
returning  to  the  swamp  the  next  day  Dana  found  where 
the  horses  had  been  tethered  and  the  moss  on  which  Booth 
and  Herrold  had  slept.  He  also  found  the  pieces  of  blanket 
used   in   muffling  the  horse's   feet. 

The  dlft'erent  movements  they  made  from  the  time  of 
the  tragedy  to  the  time  of  reaching  the  Sekiah  Swamp 
shows  that  their  course  was  laid  out  beforehand.  They 
knew  where  to  go  and  who  their  friends   were. 

Sekiah  Swamp  lies  a  short  distance  nearly  west  of 
Bryantown.  It  is  full  of  quagmire  and  sinkholes  and  ex- 
ceedingly dangerous  except  by  day,  and  then  the  greatest 
caution  is  necessary,  even  with  one  acquainted  with  the 
Swamp.  Hence  Booth  and  Herrold  must  have  had  a  guide 
coming  and  going.  They  could  never  have  gotten  their 
horses  there  alone.  To  have  attempted  to  do  so  would 
have  meant  their  end.  There  is  a  small  stream  running 
through  the  swamp  large  enough  to  float  a  small  craft". 
It  empties  into  the  Patuxent.  After  leaving  the  swamp  the 
fugitives  went  to  a  log  cabin  in  a  pine  thicket  quite  a 
distance  from  any  road.  It  proved  to  be  the  dwelling  of  a 
man  named  Jones,  who  had  a  negress  for  a  housekeeper. 
It  was  in  this  thicket  the  two  horses  were  killed.  Here 
Booth  and  Herrold  were  kept  for  two  or  three  days  when 
they  were  taken  by  boat  to  the  outlet  of  the  swamp  to  a 
point  where  the  troops  were  stationed  and  from  there  car- 
ried to  a  point  on  the  Patuxent  nearly  opposite  Aquia 
creek.  From  there  across  the  Potomac  they  made  their 
way  to  Garrett's,  some  fifteen   miles   from   Bowling  Green, 

In  connection  with  this  letter  of  Dana's,  Historia 
ventures  the  substtance  of  another  by  another  author,  ex- 
cept not  put  in  print.  It  was  directed  to  Dana  and  written 
by  F.  E.  Dumont,  who  was  stationed  at  the  bridge  over  the 
east  branch  of  the  Potomac  that  was  crossed  by  Booth 
and  Herrold  coming  into  and  going  out  of  Washington 
City,  the  fatal  night  in  1865.  Dumont  was  then  a  member 
of  the  old  provost  guard  with  headquarters  at  Fort  Baker. 

"Well  do  I  remember,"  says  Mr.  Dumont,  "I  was 
detailed  from  Company  C  by  Capt.  A.  W.  Brigham,  then 
stationed  at  Fort  Mahan  with  orders  to  report  to  you  at 
Fort  Baker  for  duty  as  provost  guard.  I  did  so,  and  was 
employed  to  guard  prisoners  and  in  going  to  Uniontown 
to  search  for  soldiers  without  passes.  After  a  short  term 
at  headquarters  I,  with  others  of  your  command,  was  sent 
to    guard   the   bridge   leading   from    Washington    to   Union- 


8  WAXnERIXGS  OF  J.  WILKES  BOOTH 

town,  d(iv,n  l)y  the  Navy  Yard.  I  was  stationed  at  the 
Uniontown  end  of  the  bridge,  wliere  there  were  srates  to 
step  people  from  jroinar  across  either  way,  beinjr  under 
orders  frm  Corporal  Sullivan,  with  Sergeant  Silas  T.  Cobb 
at   the   other  end. 

I  was  present  the  night  Booth  and  Herrold  rode  across 
aftrr  shooting  the  President.  Wiien  Booth  rode  up  I  was 
at  tiie  lilock  house  on  duty  and  heard  him  ask  the  guard 
if  anyone  had  gone  through  lately  and  heard  the  post  guard 
answer,  "No,"  and  ask  Booth  what  he  was  doing  out  that 
late  at  night,  to  which  Booth  made  some  kind  of  a  reply 
about  going  to  see  some  one  on  the  T.  B.  Road.  I  helped 
open  the  gate  and  he  rode  away  with  the  speed  of  the  wind.s. 
A  short  time  after  this  Herrold  rnde  up  and  inquired  if 
any  one  liad  just  passed  through  riding  a  bay  horse.  On 
being  t' Id  tliere  Iiad  he  muttered  something  about  being  a 
pretty  fellow  not  to  wait  for_him.  Well,  I  opened  the  gate 
and  let  him  through  and  he  dashed  off  in  a  hurry.  About 
twenty  minutes  later  we  heard  a  great  noise  and  furor 
across  the  bridge  and  in  a  short  time  got  word  that  the 
President  had  been  shot.  I  remember  when  you  came  to 
the  bridge  to  meet  some  one  who  was  sitting  on  the  Wash- 
ington side,  but  never  knew  who  it  was  until  I  read  your 
letter  in  the  Sunday  Globe.  I  remember  your  going  in 
pursuit,  one  of  Company  C's  boys,  Charley  Jones,  with 
you."  Signed  by  F.  A.  Dumont  late  private  in  Company  C, 
Third  heavv  artillerv,  Massachusetts  Volunteers. 


AS  RAY  STANARD  BAKER  TELLS  IT 

April  Ifi,  186.5,  Col.  L.  C.  Baker  was  summoned' by 
Secretary  of  War  Stanton  to  appear  before  him  at  once, 
and  early  next  morning  he  reached  Washington,  and  ac- 
companied by  his  cousin,  Lieut.  L.  B.  Baker,  a  member  of 
the  bureau  who  had  recently  been  mustered  out  of  the 
First  District  of  Columbia  Cavalry.  They  went  at  once  to 
the  War  Department  and  after  a  conference  with  Secretary 
Stanton  began  search  for  the  assassin. 

Up  to  this  time,  says  Col.  Baker,  the  confusion  had 
been  so  great  that  but  few  of  the  ordinary  detective  meas- 
ures had  been  employed  and  no  rewards  had  been  offered. 
Little  or  no  attempt  had  been  made  to  collect  and  arrange 
clues  in  the  furtherance  of  systematic  search,  which  was 
without  a  directing  leader. 

\  reward  of  thirty  thousand  dollars  was  placarded  for 
the  apprehension  of  the  assassin,  the  City  of  Washington 
subscribing  twenty  thousand  and  the  rest  from  the  War 
Department  fund.  On  the  handbill  Booth  was  described  as 
beinir  five  feet  eight  inches  tall,  weight  about  160  pounds, 
compactly  built;  hair  jet  black  and  inclined  to  wave  at  the 


WANDERINGS  OF  ,1    WILKES  1500TH  9 

bottom,  medium  length,  rear  part;  heavy  brows  and  black 
eyes;  large  seal  ring  on  little  finger;  head  inclined  forward 
while  talking  and  looks  down.  Other  rewards  by  different 
states  and  other  ways  swelled  the  amount  to  two  or  three 
hundred  thousand  dollars.  Fabulous  reports  were  current 
as  to  the  reward  awaiting  the  capturer  of  the  fugitive — 
the  sum  being  ])laced  as  high  as  a  million  dollars.  This, 
immense  reward  brought  forth  hundreds  of  detectives,  re- 
cently discharged  soldiers,  and  Union  officers;  in  fact  a 
vast  hoard  of  adventurers  after  the  get-rich-quick  reward. 
Into  the  field  of  .search,  and  the  whole  of  southern  Maryland 
and  eastern  \'irginia  were  ransacked  and  scoured  in  a  mad 
rivalry  for  the  hoard  of  Xibelung  until  it  would  seem 
impossible  for  anyone  to  escape,  however  well  his  routings. 
And   yet   ten   days  later   the   fugitives   were   still    at   large. 

At  the ,  beginning  of  the  search  it  was  on  the  theory 
that  Jefferson  Davis,  President  of  the  Confederacy,  and 
his  cabinet  were  in  the  plot,  and  that  Booth  and  Herrold 
had  been  inveigled  into  the  game  as  goats  in  the  hands  of 
more  skilled  companions.  Therefore  pictures  were  pro- 
cured of  Davis,  George  H.  Saunders,  Beverly  Tucker,  Jacob 
Thompson,  and  a  number  of  others,  all  being  charged  with 
conspiracy. 

Lieut.  Baker  and  a  lialf  dozen  men  went  into  southern 
Maryland  to  distribute  the  handbills  describing  the  fugitives 
and  to  exhibit  the  pictures.  They  also  made  search  for 
clues  but  found  themselves  harrassed  by  private  detectives 
and  soldiers  who  sought  to  throw  them  off  the  trail  in 
the  hope   of   following  it   themselves. 

On  returning  to  Washington  Col.  Baker  was  told  that 
his  companions  had  not  gone  south  but  had  taken  some 
other  direction,  probably  toward  Philadelphia,  where  Booth 
had  numerous  female  friends. 

"Now,  sir,"  an.swered  Col.  Baker,  "You  are  mistaken. 
There  is  no  place  of  safety  for  Booth  except  in  the  south 
among   friends." 

Acting  on  this  belief  Col.  Baker,  Theodore  Woodall, 
one  of  the  lower  Maryland  detectives,  accompanying  with 
and  expert  telegrapher  named  Brachwith.  They  had  been 
out  less  than  ten  days  when  the\'  discovered  a  clu-e  from  a 
negro  who  told  them  that  two  men  answering  the  descrip- 
tion of  Booth  and  Herrold  had  crossed  the  Potomac  the 
Sunday  before  below  Port  Tobacco  in  a  fishing  boat.  The 
negro  was  hurried  to  Washington  on  the  next  rioat.  Col. 
Baker  questioned  the  darkey  and  showed  him  a  large  assort- 
ment of  photographs,  those  of  Booth  and  Herrold  bein'j  at 
once  recognized  as  the  parties  who  had  crossed  in  the  boat. 
Baker  after  a  conference  with  Stanton  sent  a  request  to 
General  Handcock  for  a  detachment  of  cavalry  to  guard  his 


10 WANDERLVGS  OF  J.  WILKES  BOOTH 

men  sent  ii>  pursuit  and  Baker  was  ordered  to  the  quarter- 
master's oflFice  to  arrange  transportation  down  the  Potomac. 
On  the  return  of  Lieut.  Baker  he  was  informed  that  he 
and  E.  J.  Conger  and  other  detectives  were  to  have 
charge  of  the  party. 

These  three  men  held  a  conference  in  which  Col.  Baker 
explained  his  theory  of  the  whereabouts  of  Booth  and 
Herrold.  In  half  an  hour  Lieut.  Edword  F.  Daugherty  of 
the  16th  New  York  cavalry,  with  twenty-five  men,  Ser- 
geant Boston  Corbett  second  in  command,  reported  to 
Col.  Baker  for  duty,  having  been  directed  to  go  with  him 
and  Conger  wherever  they  might  order.  Lieut.  Baker  and 
his  men  galloped  post  haste  down  the  Sixth  street  dock  and 
hurried  on  the  government  tug  John  S.  Ide  at  3  o'clock 
and  that  same  afternoon  the  tug  reached  Belle  Plain,  land- 
ing where  there  was  a  sharp  point  in  the  river.  Col.  Baker 
scoured  the  river  between  there  and  the  Rhappahanock. 
On  disembarking  Conger  and  Daugherty  rode  nhead,  I>ieut. 
Baker  and  his  men  following  within  hailing  distance.  They 
stepped  at  the  homes  of  prominent  Confederates  to  make 
inquiry,  saying  they  were  being  pursued  by  the  Yankees 
and  in  crossing  the  river  had  become  separated  from  two 
of  their  men,  one  being  lame,  but  no  one  admitted  having 
seen  them.  At  dawn  the  men  shed  their  disguise  and  halted 
for  rest  and  refreshments. 

Again  in  their  saddles  they  struck  across  the  country 
toward  Port  Conway  on  the  Rhappahanock  about  twenty 
miles  below  Fredericksburg.  About  three  o'clock  they  drew 
rein  in  front  of  a  planter's  home  half  a  mile  from  town 
and  ordered  dinner  for  themselves  and  horses.  Conger  who 
was  suffering  from  nn  old  wound  was  about  all  in  and  he 
and  the  others,  except  Baker  and  a  corporal,  dropped  down 
on  the  road-side  for  a  brief  rest.  Baker  fearing  that  the 
presence  of  the  scoiiting  party  might  give  warning  to  Booth 
and  companions  should  they  be  hiding  in  the  neighborhood, 
pushed  on  to  the  bank  of  the  Rhappahanock,  where  he  saw 
dozing  in  the  sunshine  a  fisherman  in  front  of  a  small 
cottage,  his  name  being  Rollins.  He  was  asked  if  he  had 
seen  a  lame  man  cross  the  river  within  the  past  few  days^ 
to  which  the  iii^n  answered  that  he  had,  and  there  were 
other  men  with  him;  that  he  had  ferried  them  across  the 
river.  Baker  produced  his  photographs  and  Rollins  pointed 
out  the  pictures  of  Booth  and  Herrold.  These  men,  he 
said,  were  the  men.  except  "this  one"  pointing  to  Booth's 
picture,   "had   no   moustache." 

"With  this  information  Baker  felt  satisfied  that  he  had 
struck  a  hot  trail;  that  with  all  the  vast  army  of  detectives 
he  was  within  a  touchdown  of  the  goal.  He  at  once  sent 
the  corporal   back   with   orders   for   Conger   and   his   men   to 


WANDERINGS  OF  .1    WILKES  BOOTH  11 

come  up  without  delay.  After  the  corporal  had  left  the 
fisherman,  Rollins,  explained  that  the  men  had  hired  him 
to  ferry  tliem  across  the  river  on  the  previous  afternoon 
and  that  just  before  startinjr  three  men  rode  up  and 
greeted  the  fujiitives.  Rollins  said  he  knew  the  three  men 
well;  that  they  were  Major  M.  B.  Ruggles,  Lieut.  Bain- 
bridge  and  Capt.  Jett,  of  Mosby's  command.  On  being 
asked    where   they    went    this   fisherman    drawled    out: 

"Well,  this  Capt.  Jett  has  a  lady  love  at  Bowling 
Green  and  I  reckon  he  went  over  there."  As  the  cavalry 
came  up  Baker  told  Rollins  he  would  have  to  accompany 
them  to  Bowling  Green  as  a  guide,  to  which  Rollins  objected 
on  the  ground  that  he  would  incur  the  hatred  of  his 
neighbors,  none  of  whom  favored  the  Union  cause.  "But 
you  might  make  me  your  prisoner,"  with  a  slow  drawl, 
"and  thfn  I  would  have  to   go." 

Rollins'  old  ferry  boat  was  shaky,  and  although  the 
loading  was  done  with  the  greatest  dispatch  it  took  three 
trips  to  get  the  detachment  across,  when  the  march  for 
Bowling  Green  began.  Baker  and  Conger  who  were  riding 
ahead  saw  two  horsemen  standing  motionless  on  the  top  of 
a  hill  their  black  forms  showing  well  against  the  sky — 
probablj'  Bainbridge  and  Ruggles,  and  Conger  and  Baker 
at  once  spotted  them  as  friends  of  Booth  who  had  in  some 
way  got  wind  that  a  searching  party  was  near.  Baker 
signalled  the  horsemen  for  a  parley,  but  instead  they  put 
their  necks  to  their  horses  withers  and  hastily  sralLncd  up 
the  road.  Baker  and  Conger  made  ch^r -.  but  'he  two 
horsemen  at  full  speed  dashed  away,  and  ju:-h  as  ih'^y  were 
about  to  be  overtaken  dashed  into  a  blind  trail  leading  from 
the  main  road  into  the  forest,  they  possibly  being  on  vigil 
to  warn  Booth,  who  was  at  the  Garrett  home,  of  approach- 
ing danger.  The  pursuers  held  a  briff  cnr.ferf^nce,  deciding 
not  to  follow  farther  but  to  reach  Bowling  Green  as  soon 
as  possible.  These  men.  Baker  and  CmTei-  say  they  were 
afterwards  informed,  were  Bainbridge  aiul  Rugjrles  and  that 
Booth  at  the  time  was  less  than  half  a  mile  away  lying  on 
the  grass  at  the  Garrett  home.  Baker  says  also  that  Booth 
saw  his  pursuers  as  they  neared  his  hiding  place.  Baker 
and  Conger  believed  Booth  to  be  at  Bowling  Green  fifteen 
miles  away,   and  so  they  pushed   on. 

It  was  nearinir  midnight  when  the  searching  party 
clattered  into  Bowling  Green,  and  with  scarcrlv  a  spoken 
command  surrounded  the  dark  rambling  hotel,  Baker  to  the 
front  door  and  Conger  to  the  rear  from  which  came  the 
dismal  barking  of  a  dosr.  Presently  a  light  flickered  and 
some  one  opened  the  door  and  inquired  in  a  frightened 
female  voice  what  was  wanted.  Baker  thrust  his  toe  inside 
and    flinging    the    door    open    was    confronted    by    a    lone 


12  WANDERINGS  OF  J.  WILKES  BOOTH 


woman.  At  this  moment  Conger  came  through  the  back 
way  led  by  a  negro.  The  woman  admitted  at  once  that 
there  was  a  Confederate  cavalryman  sleeping  in  the  house 
and  pointed  out  the  room.  With  candle  in  hand  Baker  and 
Conger  at  once  entered:  Captain  Jett  sat  up,  staring  at 
them: 

"What  do  you  want?"  At  which  he  was  informed  that 
he  was  wanted.  "You  took  Booth  across  the  river,"  said 
Conger,  "and  you  know  where  he  is.''  Jett  declared  that 
they  were  mistaken — were  barking  up  the  wrong  tree,  as 
he   rolled  out  of  bed. 

"You  lie,"  shouted  Conger  springing  forward  with 
pistol  close  to  Jett's  head.  By  this  time  the  cavalrymen 
had  crowded  into  the  room  and  Jett  caught  sight  of  the 
light  glinting  against  their  brass  buttons  and  on  their 
drawn  revolvers.  Jett  assured  them  on  his  honor  as  a' 
gentleman  that  he  would  tell  them  all  he  knew  if  they 
would  promise  to  shield  him  from  all  complicity  in  the 
matter. 

"Yes,  if  we  catch  Booth,"  was  Conger's  answer. 

"Booth  is  at  the  Garrett  home  three  miles  this  side  of 
Port  Conway,"  said  Jett,  "if  you  came  that  way  you  must 
have  frightened  him  off." 

In  less  than  thirty  minutes  the  pursuing  party  was 
doubling  back  over  the  road  they  had  just  traveled,  with 
Jett  and  Rollins  as  prisoners,  the  bridle  reins  of  the 
horses  ridden  by  them  fastened  to  the  men  on  either  side. 
It  was  a  black  night,  no  moon,  no  stars,  and  the  dust  rose 
in  choking  clouds.  For  two  days  the  men  had  eaten  little 
and  slept  less  and  they  were  worn  out  so  they  could  scarcely 
sit  on  their  jaded  horses  and  yet  they  plunged  and  stumbled 
on  through  the  darkness  over  fifteen  miles  of  meandering 
road,  reaching  the  Garrett  home  about  4  o'clock  on  the 
morning  of  April  26. 

Like  many  other  southern  homes  the  Garrett  home 
stood  far  back  from  the  road  with  only  a  bridle  gate  at 
the  end  of  a  long  lane.  So  exhausted  were  the  cavalrymen 
that  some  of  them  dropped  in  the  sand  when  their  horses 
stopped,  and  had  to  be  kicked  into  -wakefulness.  Rollins 
and  Jett  were  placed  under  guard  while  Baker  and  Conger 
made  a  dash  up  the  lane,  some  of  the  cavalrymen  following. 
Garrett's  home  was  an  old  fashioned  southern  one,  with  a 
wide  plaza  reaching  full  length  in  front,  and  with  barns 
and  tobacco  houses  looming  up  big  and  dark,  apart. 

Baker  leaped  from  his  horse  to  the  steps  and  thundered 
on  the  door.  A  moment  later  a  window  was  cautiously 
opened  and  a  man  thrust  his  head  out.  Before  he  could 
say  a  word  Baker  seized  his  hand  with:  "Open  the  door 
and  be  quick  about  it."     The  man  tremblingly  complied  and 


WANDERINGS  OF  J    WILKES  BOOTH  13 


Baker  stepped  inside  and  closed  the  door  behind  him.  A 
candle  was  quickly  lighted  and  Baker  demanded  Garrett 
to  reveal  the  hiding  place  of  the  men  who  had  been  staying 
at   his  house. 

"They  are  gone  to  the  woods,"  the  old  gentleman 
replied.  At  this  Baker  thrust  his  revolver  in  Garrett's 
face:      "Don't   tell    me   that.'' 

Just  at  this  point  Conger  came  in  with  young  Garrett 
wiio  explained  to  them  that  if  they  would  not  harm  his 
father  he  would  tell  them  where  the  fugitives  were.  He 
said  the  men  did  go  to  the  woods  last  evening  when  some 
cavalry  passed  by  but  came  back  and  wanted  them  to  take 
them  over  to  Lauisa  Court  House.  Continuing,  young  Gar- 
rett told  Baker  that  they  could  not  leave  home  before 
morning,  if  at  all;  that  they  were  becoming  suspicious  of 
the  strangers,  and  th;«t  his  father  told  them  he  could  not 
harbor  them.  Baker  here  interrupted  with  a  demand  to 
know  where  they  were,  at  which  young  Garrett  replied 
that  his  l)rother  Iiad  locked  them  in  the  barn  fearing  they 
might  steal  the  horses,  and  he  was  then  watching  them  in 
the  barn.  Baker  asked  no  further  questions  but  taking 
young  Garrett  by  the  arm  made  a  dash  toward  the  barn, 
when  Conger  ordered  the  cavalrymen  to  follow  and  formed 
them  in  such  position  around  the  barn  that  no  one  could 
escape.  By  this  time  the  soldiers  had  found  the  boy  guard- 
in"  the  barn  and  had  brought  him  out  with  the  key.  Baker 
unlocked  tlie  door  ;ind  told  the  boy  that  as  the  men  were 
his  guests  he  must  go  inside  and  induce  thera  to  come  out 
and  surrender.  But  the  boy  faltered,  declaring  that  the 
men  were  armed  to  the  teeth  and  that  they  would  shoot 
him  down.  But  he  discovered  that  he  was  looking  into 
the  black  mouth  of  Baker's  revolver,  and  hastily  slid 
through   tile   doorway. 

There  was  a  sudden  rustle  of  corn  blades  and  voices 
in  low  conver.sation.  \]\  around  the  soldiers  were  picketed 
wrapped  in  inky  blackness  and  uttering  no  sound.  In  the 
midst  of  a  little  circle  of  light  Baker  stood  at  the  doorway 
with    drawn    revolver,   while    Conger  had    gone   to    the    rear. 

During  the  heat  and  excitement  of  the  chase  Baker  had 
as.'-utned  command  of  the  cavalrvmen  somewhat  to  the 
umbrage  of  T-ieut.  Daugherty,  who  kept  himself  in  the 
background  during  the  remainder  of  the  night.  Farther 
away  in  the  Garrett  home  the  family  huddled,  trambling 
and    frightened. 

Suddenly  from  within  the  barn  a  clear  loud  voice  rang 
out.  "You  have  betrayed  me.  Leave  at  once  or  I  will 
shoot   you." 

Baker  then  called  to  the  men  in  the  barn  to  turn  over 
their  arms  to  young  Garrett   and  surrender  at  once,  declar- 


14.  WANDERINGS  OF  .1.   WILKES  BOOTH 


ing  that  if  they  didn't  the  barn  would  be  fired  and  there 
would  be  a  shooting  match.  At  this  young  Garrett  came 
rushing  to  the  door  begging  to  be  let  out.  He  said  he 
would  do  anything  he  could  but  did  not  want  to  risk  his 
life  in  the  presence  of  two  desperate  nnen.  Baker  opened 
the  door  and  young  Garrett  rushed  out  with  a  bound.  He 
pointed  to  the  candle  Baker  had  in  his  hand,  with:  "Put 
that  out  or  he  will  shoot  you  by  its  light,"  whispered  in  a 
frightened  tone.  Baker  placed  the  candle  on  the  ground  a 
short  distance  from  the  door  so  it  would  light  the  space 
in  front  of  the  door,  then  called  to  Booth  to  surrender,  who 
in  a  clear  full  voice  replied  that  there  was  a  man  in  those 
who  wished  to  surrender,  in  which  he  was  heard  to  speak 
the  name  of  Herrold.  "Leave,  will  you?  Go.  I  don't 
want  you  to  stay."  At  the  door  Herrold  was  whimpering 
— "let  me  out,  let  me  out.  I  know  nothing  about  this  man 
in  here."  (In  fact,  did  he?)  Baker  informed  Herrold  that 
if  he  would  put  out  his  arms  he  could  surrender;  but  the 
poor  frightened  wretch  hadn't  any  arms,  and  Baker  wa.s 
so  assured  by  Booth.  "The  arms  are  mine,"  shouted  Booth, 
"and  I  shall  keep  them."  By  this  time  Herrold  was  pray- 
ing piteously  to  be  let  out  lest  he  be  shot.  Baker  opened 
the  door  a  trifle  and  ordered  Herrold  to  put  his  hands  out, 
which  he  did,  and  the  moment  his  hands  passed  through  the 
door  tliey  were  seized  by  Baker  and  Herrold  was  whipped 
out  and  turned  over  to  the  soldiers.  "You  had  better  come 
out  too,''  said  Baker  to  Booth,  who  inquired  to  know  who 
Baker  was;  that  he  wanted  to  know  if  he  was  being  taken 
by  his  friends  or  by  his  enemies.  "It  makes  no  difference 
who  we  .■Tt,"  was  the  curt  reply,  "We  know  and  want  you. 
We  have  fifty  well  armed  men  stationed  around  this  barn. 
You  cannot  escape  and  we  do  not  want  to  kill  you." 

After    a    moment    of    faltering    Booth    called    from    his 

cribbed    imprisonment    that    the    Captain    (Baker)    had    put 

a  hard  case  up  to  him,  as  he  was  lame;  "But  give  me  a 
chance,"  he  said.  "Draw  up  your  men  twenty  yards  from 
here  and  I  will  fight  your  whole  command."  To  which 
Baker  replied  that  they  were  not  there  to  fight,  but  "to 
take  ycu."  Booth  asked  time  to  consider  and  was  told 
by  Baker  that  he  could  have  just  two  minutes  and  no  more. 
.\fter  a  portion  of  the  allotted  time  had  passed.  Booth 
called  to  Captain  Baker:  "Captain  I  believe  you  are  a 
brave  and  honorable  man.  I  have  had  half  a  dozen  chances 
to  shoot  you,  and  have  a  bead  on  you  now.  Withdraw 
your  men  from  the  door  and  I  will  come  out,  as  I  do  not 
want  to  kill  you.  Gi\e  me  this  chance  for  my  life;  for  I 
will  not  be  taken  alive."  Even  in  this  desperate  danger 
Booth    did    not    forget   to   be   theatrical. 


WANDERINGS  OF  J    WILKES  BOOTH  15 


"Your  time  is  up,"  said  Baker  firmly,  "and  if  you  don't 
come   out   we   will   make   a   bonfire   of   the   barn." 

Then  came  a  final  defy  from  Booth  in  clarion  tones 
which  could  be  heard  by  the  women  cowering  on  the  Gar- 
rett porch  several  rods  away.  "Just  prepare  a  stretcher 
for  me.''  Adding  after  a  slight  pause,  "One  more  star  on 
the  glorious  banner." 

Conger  now   came   around   the   corner   of  the  barn   and 

asked  Baker  if  he  was  ready.    After  a  nod  of  "yes"  Conger 

stepped    noisely    hack    and    drew    a    bunch    of    corn    husks 

thrcuuh    a   crack   in   the   barn,   scratched   a   match   and   in    a 

moment  the  whole   interior  was  brilliant  with  light.      Baker 

jarred   the   door   and   peeked   in.      Booth   had   been    snugged 

against  the  mow,  but  now  sprang  forward,  half  blinded  by 

the    glow    of    the    fire,    his    crutches    under    one    arm    and 

carbine  leveled  in  the  direction   of  the  flames  as  if  to  shoot 

the  man   who  set  them   going,  but  he  was   unable  to  see   on 

account   of  the   darkness   outside.     After   a   brief  hesitation 

he  reeled  forward.      An  old  table  was  near  at  hand,  at  which 

Booth    cauglit    liold    as    though    to    cast    it    upside    down    on 

the    flames,    but    he    was    not    quick    enough,    and    dropping 

"one"  crutch  hobbled  toward  the  door.    About  the  middle  of 

the  barn  he  drew  himself  up  to  full  height   and  seemed  to 

take    in    the    entire    situation.      His   hat    was    gone    and    his 

dark  wavy   hair  tossed   hack   from   his  hish    white    forehead. 

lips  firmly  compressed   as  the  riiddy  firelight  glow  revealed 

a  pale  and  palid  face.     In   his  full   dark   eyes  there  was  an 

expression   of  hatred    mingled   with    terror   and    the   defiance 

of  a  tiger  hunted  to  its  lair.     Tn  one  hand  he  held  a  carbine, 

in    the    other    a    revolver    and    his    belt    contained    another 

re\' her   and   a  huge   knife,   seeming  determined   to    fight  to 

the    end    no    matter    what    numbers    appeared    against    him. 

By  this  time  the  flanT-s  in  the  corn  blades  had   mounted  to 

the    rafters    arching    the    hunted    refugee    in    a    glow    more 

brilliant    than    the    lights    of    any    theatre    in    which    he    had 

ever  played.      Suddenly   Booth   threw   aside  his   "remaining" 

crutch,   dropped    his   carbine,    raised   his    revolver    and    made 

a     lunge    for    the    door,    evidently    with    the    intention    of 

.«hooting    down    whoever    mi.'xht    bar    his    way,    and    make    a 

desperate   dash   for  liberty   fighting   as   he   ran.      Then    came 

a  shock  that  sounded   above  the   roar  of  the  flames.      Booth 

leaped  in  the  air,  then  pitched  forward  on  his  face.      Baker 

was   on    him    in    an    instant   and    grabbed   both    arms,    a   pre- 

cautirn   entirely  unnecessary;   for  Booth   would   struggle  no 

more.     In    a    jitfy    Conger    and    his    soldiers    came    rushing 

in    wihile    Baker    turned    tlie    wounded    man    over    and    felt 

for  his  heart. 

"He    must    have    shot    himself,"    remarked     Baker.      "I 
saw  him  the  moment  the  fire  was  lighted.     If  not,  the  man 


16  WANDERINGS  OF  ,)    WILKES  BOOTH 


who  did  the  shooting  goes  back  to  Washington  in  irons 
for  disobeying  orders.'' 

In  the  excitement  that  followed  the  firing  of  the  barn 
Boston  Corbett,  accompanying  the  cavalry  detachment,  had 
gone  to  the  side  of  the  crib,  placed  his  revolver  through  a 
crack,  and  just  as  Booth  was  about  to  spring  to  the  door- 
way, fired  the   fatal  shot. 

Booth's  body  was  carried  out  and  laid  under  an  applf 
tree.  Water  was  dashed  in  his  face  and  Baker  tried  to 
make  him  drink  but  he  seemed  unable  to  swallow.  Present- 
ly, however,  he  opened  his  eyes  and  seemed  to  understand 
the  situation.  His  lips  moved  and  Baker  leaned  down  to 
hear  what  he  might  say.  "Tell  mother — tell  mother — " 
He  faltered   and  tlien  became  unconscious. 

The  flames  now  grew  so  intense  that  it  was  necessary 
to  remove  the  dying  man  to  the  plaza  of  the  house  where 
he  was  laid  on  a  mattress.  A  cloth  wet  with  brandy  was 
applied  to  his  lips,  at  which  he  revived  a  little,  then  opened 
his  eyes  and  said  in  a  tone  of  bitterness,  "Oh,  kill  me! 
Kill   me   quick!" 

"No  Booth,"  replied  Baker,  "We  don't  want  you  to 
die.  You  were  shot  against  orders."  Then  he  was  uncon- 
scious again  for  several  minutes  and  all  thought  he  would 
never  speak  again,  but  his  breast  heaved  and  he  acted  as 
if  he  wanted  to  say  something.  Baker  placed  his  ear  to  the 
dying  man's  mouth,  when  Booth  in  a  faltering  and  scarcely 
audiljle  whisper  said,  "Tell  mother  I  died  for  my  country. 
I  did  what  I  tliought  was  best."  With  a  feeling  of  pity  and 
tenderness  Baker  lifted  the  limp  hand,  but  it  fell  back 
again  by  his  side  as  if  he  were  dead.  He  seemed  uncon- 
scious of  the  movement,  and  turning  his  eyes  muttered: 
"Hopeless.     Useless."     And — he   was   dead. 


THE  PROSECUTION   RESTS 

Now  that  you  iiave  read  the  story  of  the  pursuit  by 
General  Dana  and  the  statement  from  R.  Standard  Baker 
you  are  no  doubt  convinced  that  the  man  killed  at  the 
Garrett  home  on  the  memorable  25th  of  April,  1865,  was 
none  other  than  J.  Wilkes  Booth  and  that  any  one  who 
would  claim  that  the  Enid  suicide  of  January,  1903  was 
Booth  should  be  made  president  of  an  Anamias  club  or  sent 
to  a  lunacy  resort.  But  pause  a  moment.  Who  was  it 
wrote  the  account  of  the  killing  at  the  Garrett  home,  and 
when  was  it  written?  Get  out  from  under  the  dazzling 
light  and  take  a  serious  look.  It  was,  like  the  Dana  story, 
written  a  third  of  a  century  subsequent  to  the  event;  but 
unlik*  the  Dana  story,  written  by  one  who,  barring  the 
lapse  of  memory  after  so  many  years,  was  in  a  position,  to 
know;    whereas,    R.    Standard    Baker    was    not    nearer    than 


g:M 


% 

X 

\ 


,      :;.--^-i:.--^ifkr}x:  -.:sr,\<'xstfk:>^n-e!w.s^^M-^ssr¥£isM''ia^ 


"Ge<;rge"  eleven  days  after  eiiibalniing. 


Booth   as   an   Evangelist. 


W  A N  F) K R I N  C;  S  O  F  .1     X^'  I T  K  V.  S  P, O OT H  1 


Washington  City  to  the  scene  of  the  tragedy,  had  no  part 
in  it  nor  even  in  the  pursuit;  who  never  saw  Booth  eitiier 
"before  or  after,"  his  only  connection  with  the  great  na- 
tional tragedy  was  in  being  a  relative  of  the  Bakers  who 
did  have  a  hand  in  the  affair.  Besides,  it  was  but  a  collec- 
tion of  published  and  bar  room  stories  embellished  with 
lilies  of  the  valley  dashed  over  with  sprinkles  of  new-mown 
hay  to  give  wholesome  fragrance  to  dead  matter;  for — 
Mr.  Baker  was  a  novelist  with  the  imagination  of  a  poet. 
Hence  he  grew  florescent  in  his  account  written  many  years 
after  the  tragedy.  Now  his  raven  locks  waved  like  fairy 
tresses.  "Word  painters  in  that  day  often  consulted 
"spirits".  This  may  account  for  Mr.  Baker  seeing  two 
crutches,  and  how  he  came  to  see  him  "discard"  one  of 
them.  When  all  reliable  evidence  is  Booth  never  had  but 
one  crutch,  and  Bainbridge  and  Rutledge  who  took  Booth 
to  the  Garrett  home  declare  he  abandoned  the  crutch  for  a 
large  cane.  This  may  be  why  the  "leg  came  off  with  the 
boot"  when  the  body  was  buried  at  Baltimore.  Many  other 
tilts  of  poetic  license  might  be  called  up. 

The  prcsecution  closed  with  the  exhuming  of  the  body 
from  its  tomb  in  the  room  of  the  old  prison  and  buried  in 
Mount  Green  cemetery.  It  was  recognized  as  the  body  of 
J.  Wilkes  Booth  by  the  brother  Edwin  and  Joe  Ford, 
proprietor  of  tiie  Ford  tiieatre  where  the  tragedy  took 
place — recognized  liy  a  gold  tooth  taken  from  the  dead 
man  by  the  undertaker.  Witli  a  statement  that  as  other 
and  the  final  evidence,  it  is  stated  that  on  removing  tlie 
boot   from   one   foot,  the  limb   remained   in   the  boot. 

The  prosecution  concludes  its  testimony  by  introduc- 
tion of  a  few  letters  from  various  persons.  All  of  them, 
bear  in  mind,  contemporaneous  with  the  Dana  and  the 
Baker  statements.  One  of  these  is  from  Gen.  Lew  Wallace 
who  was  the  Judge  Advocate  before  whom  Mrs.  Surratt 
and  David  E.  Herrold  were  tried  (court  martial).  In  his 
letter  Mr.  Wallace  says  that  of  "My  personal  knowledge 
the  body  was  brought  to  Washington  City  and  buried  in  a 
room  of  the  old  brick  jail;  that  some  years  subsequent  it 
was  lurned  over  to  the  relatives  of  Booth  and  buried  in 
Mount  Green  cemetery,  Baltimore."  "To  my  personal 
knowledge"  is  putting  it  pretty  strong  and  positive,  'coming 
from  so  eminent  a  man  as  Gen.  Wallace;  but  it  may  be 
hinted  that  the  General  was  also  a  novelist  whose  Ben  Hur 
proved  f)ne  of  the  most  popular  biblical  fictions  ever  given 
to  the  public — the  book,  its  dramatization  for  the  stage, 
and  later,  as  a  movie  attraction. 

Gen.  Dana  writes  that  to  his  certain  knowledge  the 
body  was  brought  to  Washington  City  on  the  steamer  John 
S.    Ide    and    "buried    under   a    slab    in    the    navv   vnrd    and    a 


18 WAXDERIXGS  OF  J.  WILKES  BOOTH 

battery  of  artillery  hauled  over  it  to  obliterate  any  trace," 
etc.     That,  too,  is  pretty  strong  evidence. 

.\nother  witness  proves  to  be  a  star  in  the  prosecution 
box:  William  P.  Wood  of  Washington  City,  who,  soon 
after  writing  his  "testimony" — died,  in  1898.  At  the  time 
Mr.  Lincoln  was  killed  he  was  a  government  detective, 
and  on  receipt  of  a  wire  from  Secretary  Stanton  hastened 
to  Washington.  In  speaking  of  the  disposition  of  the 
Garrett  home  body  he  is  solemnly  certain  it  was  taken  from 
the  steamer  John  S.  Ide  at  the  wharf  in  Washington  City 
April  27  and  transferred  by  Capt.  Baker  and  his  nephew 
Lieut.  Baker  of  the  New  York  71st  Volunteers,  and  taken 
down  the  Potomac  to  an  island  27  miles  out  from  Wash- 
ington  and  buried. 

Another  star  witness  for  the  prosecution  was  Capt. 
E.  W.  Hillard  of  Metropolis,  Illinois,  who  about  the  same 
date  as  the  other  letters,  declares  that  he  was  one  of  the 
four  who  carried  the  remains  from  the  old  prison  room 
(described  by  Wallace);  that  the  body  was  taken  about 
ten  miles  down  the  Potomac  and  sunk;  that  the  storj'  of 
Booth  being  buried  in  the  navy  yard  was  given  out  merely 
to  satisfy  the  people.  (But  Mr.  Dana's  statement  was  a 
third  of  a  century  after  the  event.)  Still  another  cock- 
sure witness  declares  that  the  body  was  taken  to  a  sand  bar 
of  the  Potomac  and  consumed  in  quick-lime. 

Xow  you  have  the  evidence  of  the  prosecution.  Would 
you  as  a  juryman,  even  before  the  defense  has  introduced 
an  item  in  rebuttal  find  Corbett  guilty  as  charged?  Pos- 
sibly. But  as  a  matter  of  form,  if  for  no  other  reason, 
the  defense  will  present  a  few  statements  and  circumstances. 
The  first  is  a  confession  from  a  man  going  under  the  name 
of  John  St.  Helen — made  to  a  friend — Finis  L.  Bates,  when 
he,  St.  Helen,  supposed  he  was  at  the  gate  of  eternity  at 
Cranberry,  Texas,  in  1878. 


BOOTH  MAKES  CONFESSION 

The  story  here  drifts  back  to  the  confession  made  by 
Booth  at  Cranberry,  Texas,  in  1878,  when  he  supposed  the 
final  accounting  was  at  hand.  For  one  peculiar  character- 
istic in  his  temperament  was  an  inclination  to  moody  spells 
of  despondency,  and  when  taken  ill  invariably  giving  him- 
self up  to  die,  no  doubt  dividing  desire  between  a  hope  he 
would  and  a  desire  to  still  hang  on  longer.  It  was  during 
a  spell  of  illness  this  confession  was  made.  The  village 
physician  had  been  summoned,  meantime  his  friend  Bates 
was  a  frequent  visitor  at  the  bedside.  Despite  all  efforts 
of  the  physician  the  patient  continued  to  grow  worse  until 
it  seemed  evident  the  time  had  at  last  come  for  the  parting 
of   the   ways.      -\nd   the   physician   so   informed   his   patient. 


WANDERINGS  OF  J    WILKES  BOOTH  10 

that  if  he  had  any  arranging  to  do  or  any  statement  to 
make  he  could  not  go  to  it  any  too  soon.  Booth  then 
requested  to  see  Bates,  who  was  at  once  notified  that  his 
friend  was  dying  and  wished  to  see  him.  In  a  few  minutes 
Mr.  Bates  was  at  the  bedside.  Booth  motioned  him  to  bend 
his  ear  close,  he  being  too  feeble  to  speak  in  more  than  a 
halting  whisper.  "You  have  no  doubt  before  thi.s,"  Booth 
started  out,  "surmised  that  I  was  not  what  I  have  pretended, 
and  that  my  name  is  not  the  one  by  which  you  and  the 
good  people  of  Texas  have  known  me.  But  before  I  begin 
I  must  exact  from  you  a  most  solemn  pledge  that  you  will 
guard  the  secret  until  I  am  finally  laid  away,"  which  pledge 
was  readily  made,  "and  I  feel  that  with  a  few  quick  breaths 
the  end  will  come.  I  implore  that  you  believe  me,  for  it 
is  from  tlie  lips  of  a  dying  man.  I  also  ask  that  when  yoH 
hear  my  story  you  will  not  despise  me,  something  I  can 
scarcely  expect.  Yes,  the  angel  who  holds  the  shears  is 
impatient  to  clip  the  thread  that  holds  life  on  its  slender 
line.  Nor  can  anyone  conceive  of  a  motive  for  notoriety 
after  one  is  dead  and  can  never  know  nor  appreciate  it. 
Besides  that  nrtoriety  is  such  that  no  one  would  be  likely 
to  desire  it,  even  that  no  one  would  relish,  even  beycng  the 
vale  should  spirits  there  realize.  No,  I  have  only  one 
motive — that  the  world  may  know  that  which  through  all 
thesf"  ^-enrs  has  be^n  hidden,  that  the  man  who  killed  Pres- 
ident Lincoln  lived  to  suffer  the  consequences  of  his  own 
deed,  to  repent  in  sack  cloth — to  pay  a  thousand  fcld  the 
penalty — a  continuous  never-ceasing  penalty  with  the  debt 
still  owing."  Then  pulling  his  listener  still  nearer  he  con- 
tinued: "Lock  at  inc.  .Vnd  now  I  shall  ask  yrii  to  get 
from  under  my  pillow  a  small  tintype  taken  by  an  itinerant 
photographer  at  Glen  Rose  Mills  some  time  after  you  and 
General  Taylor  visited  there  July  4,  1877.  I  want  you  to 
retain  it  as  a  source  of  identification  when  I  am  no  more; 
and  note  from  its  date  that  it  can  be  the  likeness  of  no 
other  than  he  who  knows  that  his  end  is  near.  T  am  not 
what  T  have  pretended  to  be.  I  am  John  Wilkes  Booth, 
tli'=  man  who  k'lled  President  Lincoln."  The  tintype  was 
taken  from  beneath  the  pillow  as  requested.  Borth  gave 
one  sad  remorseful  look  at  the  picture,  then  motioned  it 
away  and  closed  his  eyes  in  a  seeming  rest.  Brmrly  was 
applied  to  the  sinking  man's  lips  and  his  brow  bathed  to 
revive  him,  only  to  court  a  gentle  recline  into  the  ariiis  of 
that  calm  sleep  which  seems  the  sleep  of  death.  But  fate 
proved  the  mentor  and  after  a  season  of  halting  on  the 
dark  border.  Booth  looked  up,  and  the  sleep  of  sleeps  passed 
to  fitful  waking.  This  was  in  the  morning,  and  with  it 
slight  evidences  that  after  all  the  patient  miaht  recover: 
at  least  such  the  hope  of  not  only  immediate  friends,  but  of 


20 


WANDERINGS  OF  J    WILKES  BOOTH 


the  physician  as  well,  that  the  patient  would  soon  pull  froni 
beneath  the  raven's  shadow.  Although  for  a  number  ot 
days  the  case  seemed  to  hang  in  the  balance.  After  a 
further  season  of  patient  waiting,  the  full  recovery  of  the 
sick  man  proved  a  phophesy  come  true. 

Having  fullv  recovered  Booth  became  a  trifle  feverish 
as  to  what  he  m"ight  have  said  during  his  delirous  moments. 
On  the  occasion  of  a  usual  visit  to  Mr.  Bates'  "ffice  he 
was  reminded  of  .the  seriousness  of  the  siege  through  which 
he  had  just  passed: 

"Do  vou  remember  the  things  I  said  when  I  was  so 
near  the  "gates  of— I  need  not  mention."  Pending  reply 
there  was  an  expression  of  evident   anxiety. 

"I  remember  many  things  you  said,"  was  the  respond. 
"Then    you    have    my    life    in    your    keeping,— but    for- 
tunatelv  as  my  attorney."  . 

Mr    Bates  somewhat  evasively  replied:     "Do  you  refer 
to   what    vnu    said    of    your    sweetheart    and   last   '"ve.- '      ^^ 
To   which   Booth   in    a   solemn   tone,  half  to  himselt,      l 
have  had   a   sweetheart,"  then  recovering;  yet  more  earnest 
to  his  questioner:      "but  no  last  love,  and  I  could  not  in  the 
most  wildest  delirium  have  touched  a  subject  so  foreign  to 
mv  thoua-hts,   and   of   such   infinite  unconcern."     Raising   In 
deep  medlpv  between  self   and  self-re.straint  he  paused,  and 
then    paced"  back    and   forth    a    few    times      Suddenly    as   if 
da.shing    awav    som    intruding    spell    tilted    his    hat_  a    trifle 
to   one   side,  "folded   his   arms   in   rocking   attitude   in    front, 
accompanied    with    a    few    waving    pantomimes,    straight    at 
his  .n.estioner:      "You  perpetuated  quite  a  clever  evasion  of 
one   of   the   thin-s   I   did   say— something,"   placing  his   right 
arm    on    the    auditor's   shoulder,   the    other   swung    carelessly 
at  his  >;ide— "something  of  extreme  moment  to  me         inen 
removing  his  hand  from  the  shoulder  faced  his  auditor  and 
in   a  sort  of  confessional  tone   and  slight  palm-gesture  with 
the   right   hand,   "suflPicient   now,   that   on   some   future   day 
when  I   am   in  better   frame  to   talk   and   you   to  listen,  mj^ 
hi^toTV.  the  secret  of  my  name,  you  shall  more  fulh   know. 

"  "At  vour  convenience,  John— St.  Helen.  I  am  sure 
thrit  it  will  h°  rf  more  than  curious  interest  to  me. 
Tells  Of  His  Escape  and  Wanderings 
It  was  .some  davs  after  when  the  air  was  balmy,  and 
the  sun  lowering,  sheding  lingering  tints  on  the  roots  ol 
Granberrv.  Mr.  Bates  and  Booth  took  a  stroll  to  the  out- 
vkirts  of  "the  citv  and  seated  on  a  rock,  the  shadow  of  which 


reflected  in  phantom  weirdness  in  the  waters  below.  Here, 
true  to  promise.  Booth  unbosomed  himself  to  his  confidant, 
jrivin^  an  intelligent  and  minute  detail  of  his  life  from  the 
time  when  he  was  before  the  footlights  at  the  age  of  seven- 
teen   to   th«  traL'edv  which   sent   him   forth    a  hounded  prey 


WANDERINGS  OF  .1    WILKES  BOOTH  21 


for  the  man-hunter  and  the  professional  reward  grabber, 
down  to  his  hinding  in  Glen  Rose  Mills,  and  thence  to  Gran- 
berry  and  to  the  very  present. 

"Since  you  have  so  much  of  my  past  in  your  keeping 
I  shall  if  you  care  to  listen  give  you  still  more  with  which 
to  burden  the  chambers  of  secrecy  until  the  last  parting  of 
the   ways.     I   was  born   on   a   farm   near   Baltimore,   and   at 
once    christened    as    a    Catholic    to    which    faith    my    pepple 
belonged.     I  am  the  son  of  Junius  Booth,  Sr.,  and  brother 
of    Junius    and    Edwin    Booth,    the    actors.      My    stage-life 
began  at  the  age  of  seventeen  and  continued  until  the  break- 
ing out  of  the  war,  having  by  that  time  saved  up  something 
like  twenty  thousand  dollars  in  gold,  which,  owing  to  shaky 
financial  conditions  in  this  country,  was  deposited  in  Canad- 
ian banks   on  which   I   drew   when   in   need   of  money,  these 
checks   being   readily   cashed    at   any   bank    on    this   side   of 
the    St.    Lawrence.      My    sympathies    were    wholly    with    the 
southland,  and  my  enthusiasm  In  its  cause  practically  ended 
my    dramatic    career    so    far    as    public    appearances    went, 
except  now  and  then  filling  some  star  engagement,  the  last 
being  the  one  ever  memorable  at  the  Ford  Theatre  the  dark 
night    of   the    darkest   hour   in    any    human   life.     Fraternal 
hatred  had   grown   to   a  violent  pitch   until  it   seemed   every 
man's    hand    was    at    his    neighbor's    throat.     And    this    was 
not   confined    to    one    side    in    the    fearful    struggle.     Large 
rewards  had  been  offered  for  the  capture  of  President  Davis 
of  the  Confederacy,  in  some  cases — "dead  or  alive."     What 
were  termed   the   most   patriotic   airs   on   the   streets   of  the 
north  and  around  their  army  camps  breathed  of  this  carnal 
spirit,    and    "John    Brown's    Body,"    alternated    with    "We'll 
Hang  Jeff  Davis  to  a   Sour  Apple  Tree,"   and   other  ensan- 
guined strains.      It  was  then  I  first  conceived  the  idea  that 
I   could   best   serve   my   country   by   planning    and    carrying 
out  a  scheme  to  kidnap  President  Lincoln  and  underground 
him   to   Richmond   to   be   held   as   a   hostage   of   war  in   case 
these  drastic  threats  against  President  Davis  should  be  car- 
ried out,"  etc.     Booth  insisted  that  during  the  entire  sum- 
mer  he   took   the   initiative   and   made   no   confidences   until 
well    along    in    the    season.      He    had    made     a     number     of 
cursory    .surveys    between    the    National    Capitol    and    Rich- 
mond, Capitol   of  the  Confederacy,  searching  for  the  safest 
and  most  feiitible  route.     He  had  made  the  acquaintance  of 
David    E.    Herrold,    a    callow-seeming    young   druggist    with 
red  hair,  and  from  M'hom  he  had  purchased  greased  paints 
and   other  stage  cosmetics,  and   incidently  learned  that  the 
young  druggist  was  quite  familiar  with  the  lay  of  the  coun- 
try   along    and    tlirough    which    I>incoln    would    have    to    be 
carried — knew  every  crook  and  turn,  every  secret  path  and 
bv-wav.      He  had  also  learned  that  the  voung  man   was  not 


22  WANDERINGS  OF  .1    WILKES  BOOTH 

nearly  so  callow  as  he  seemed,  but  possessed  of  a  secretive 
resourcefulness  that  could  not  fail  to  be  valuable.  And 
above  all,  he  had  learned  that  young  Herrold  was  the  soul 
of  loyalty  to  a  friend,  and  a  person  in  whom  the  most 
implicit  confidence  could  be  placed;  that  he  had  steady 
pulse  and  unflinching  nerve — ^bold  and  daring  but  still  about 
it.  It  was  through  Herrold  he  learned  that  John  H.  Sur- 
ratt,  who  was  also  a  "cosmetic"  acquaintance  of  Herrold, 
wa.s  in  the  secret  service  of  the  Confederacy  plying  between 
Richmond  and  Canadian  points,  and  hence  must  be  familiar 
with  bridle-paths  and  secret  ways  along  the  route.  Bearing 
a  letter  of  introduction  from  Herrold  he  visited  Surratt — 
fir.'^t  at  the  Surrattsville  tavern  kept  by  Mrs.  Surratt,  and 
that  the  only  time  he — Surratt — could  be  caught  would  be 
during  some  night  as  he  was  traveling  through.  At  this 
meeting  he  did  not  meet  the  mother  and  confined  his  mis- 
sion to  gathering  what  he  could  as  to  the  secret  by-paths 
referred  to.  Soon  after  this  Mrs.  Surratt  moved  to  Wash- 
ington City  and  opened  up  a  rooming  house,  leaving  others 
in  charge  of  the  Surrattsville  tavern.  lycarning  through 
Herrold  that  Surratt  would  pass  through  Washington  on  a 
certain  night  he  paid  a  second  visit — this  time  at  the  Sur- 
ratt rooming  house  in  Washington.  At  this  meeting  he  for 
the  first  time  ntet  Mrs.  Surratt,  but  only  in  a  casual  way. 
.'Vt  this  meeting  he  also,  for  the  first  time,  unfolded  his 
scheme  to  kidnap  President  Lincoln.  While  Surratt  ex- 
pressed sympathy  with  the  kidnapping  idea  he  was  not  en- 
listed in  the  scheme,  but  Booth  determined  that  he  and 
Herrold  would  work  it  out  alone,  lest  too  many  in  the 
plot  might  cause  a  leak.  He  and  Herrold  made  a  number 
of  trips  over  the  routes  both  together  and  alone,  and  a 
number  of  plans  with  dates  were  fixed  to  do  the  kidnappinq:, 
hut  something  had  at  each  time  intervened  to  balk  the 
effort,  and  they  determined  that  this  time  they  would  carry 
out  the  scheme  at  all  hazards  and  had  just  made  a  final 
survey  along  the  route  and  were  returning  to  Washington 
to  carry  out  the  plot.  They  stopped  over  for  the  night  at 
-Surrattsville,  and  next  morning.  April  1 1-,  186.5,  saddled 
their  steeds  and  started  for  the  National  Capitol.  On 
crossing  the  East  Potomac  bridge  they  refused  to  cive  their 
names  ard  v-ere  arrested  at  the  'Xavy  Yard  end  and  de- 
tained until  the  afternoon  when  they  were  by- order  issued 
by  Gen.  Augur  calling  in  all  guards  and  discharging  all 
prisoners,  released. 

They  arrived  at  the  Kirkwood  Hotel — rendezvous  of 
the  kidnapping  contingents,  and  where  incidentally  Vice- 
President  Andrew  Johnson  also  roomed.  On  crossing  the 
bridge  Booth  first  learned  of  the  surrender  of  Lee  and 
the  fall  of  Richmond  and  concluded  there  was  nothing  left 


WANDERINGS  OF  J    WILKES  BOOTH 23 

to  do  but  leave  the  country  and  abandon  southland  to 
what  was  believed  to  be  a  miserable  fate,  of  disporting  and 
sweeping  confiscations  and  official  plunder  by  an  invading 
foe.  However,  he  says,  about  4:30  p.  m.  he  met  *  *  * 
who  taunted  him  with  cowardice,  of  wincing  at  the  crucial 
period,  of  faltering  at  the  supreme  moment,  winding  up 
with  the  hint:  "Are  you  too  faint-hearted  to  kill?"  Then 
and  there  the  idea  of  daring  over-came  Booth,  he  declares, 
and  that  then  and  there  he  determined  to  act  on  the  hint. 
Here  with  hand  raised  on  high  and  calling  on  his  maker 
to  witness,  he  avers  solemnly  that  this  was  the  first  time 
any  idea  entered  into  his  mind  other  than  the  kidnapping 
of  the  President.  But  as  General  and  Mrs.  Grant  were 
to  be  guests  of  President  and  Mrs.  Lincoln  and  occupj'  a 
box  at  the  Ford  theatre  together,  presented  a  dangerous 
barrier.  He  was  known  at  the  bridge;  he  and  Herrold 
were  already  under  suspicion,  having  but  a  few  hours 
previous  been  arrested  as  suspicious  characters  in  broad 
day  when  entering  the  city  via  the  East  Potomac  bridge, 
and  to  carry  out  the  idea  meant  certain  death,  or  seemingly 
so,  which  belief  he  communicated  to  *  *  *.  And  that 
it  would  be  impossible  to  escape  through  the  military  lines 
of  protection  completely  surrounding  the  city.  But  he  was 
assured  that  arrangements  would  be  made  so  that  Grant 
would  not  attend  the  theatre,  to  which  Booth  replied  under 
such  assurances  he  would  strike  the  blow  for  vanquished 
and  helpless  southland.  Mr.  *  *  »  left  the  room,  return- 
ing in  about  an  hour  sayin?  it  had  been  effectually  arranged; 
that  Grant  would  be  suddenly  called  out  of  the  city;  that 
such  persons  as  would  occupy  the  box  would  not  interfere, 
and  that  he  would  be  permitted  to  escape  by  way  of  the 
route  over  which  he  and  Herrold  had  entered  the  city  that 
afternoon;  that  all  guards  would  be  called  off  by  order  of 
Gen.  C.  C.  Augur  that  evening,  but  if  there  should  be 
guards  on  the  bridge  the  only  requirement  would  be  to  use 
the  password  "T.  B."  unless  more  should  be  demanded,  in 
which  case  the  words  "T.  B.  Road."  Furthermore,  on  the 
death  of  I,incoln,  Andrew  Johnson,  a  southern  man  would 
become  President,  and  that  in  his  official  capacity  would  in 
case  of  a  show  down   grant  full  pardon. 

Fired  by  the  spirit  of  what  Booth  believed  to  be  patriot- 
ism, and  hoping  to  serve  the  southern  cause,  hopeless  as  it 
then  was,  as  no  other  man  could  do,  he  regarded  it  as  an 
opportunity  for  heroism  for  his  country;  declaring  that  and 
that  alone  was  behind  his  purpose;  rather  than  any  feeling 
of  hatred  or  malice  against  the  President.  And  on  further 
telling,  says  Booth,  that  Johnson  would  protect  the  people 
of  the  south  from  personal  prosecution  and  the  confiscation 
of   their   remaining   land   estates.      Acting   upon    these   assur- 


WANDKRINGS  OF  .1    WILKES  BOOTH 


ancvs  and  with  no  other  motive  tlian  stated  he  began  at 
onre  prepiirntion  for  carrying  out  the  plot  by  goinp  to  the 
theatre  and  among  other  tilings  arranging  the  door  leading 
into  the  box  to  be  occupied  by  the  presidential  party,  so 
that  he  could  raise  the  fastenings,  enter  the  box  and  close 
the  door  behind  hiui  so  it  could  be  easily  opened  from  the 
inside.  He  then  returned  to  the  Kirkwood  and  made  his 
derringer  ready  so  it  would  not  miss  fire.  He  then  met 
•  •  •  and  informed  him  of  his  readiness  to  carry  out 
the  plot;  that  about  8:30  they  repaired  to  the  Kirkwood 
bar  and  drank  a  glass  of  brandy  to  the  success  of  the 
undertaking;  thence  to  the  street  arm-in-arm,  and  at  the 
parting: 

".Make  as  sure  of  your  aim  as  have  been  arrangements 
for  your  escape,  for  in  your  complete  success  lies  our  only 
hope."  Then  being  assured  that  the  plot  would  be  success- 
fully carried  out  Mr.  •  *  •  replied:  "Then  from  now 
on  a  southern  man  is  President  of  the  United  States,"  at 
which   a   hand-grasp   an   final   good-bye. 

Rooth  says  that  he  then  returned  to  the  theatre  and 
saw  the  President  and  party  enter  the  box,  and  he  moved 
position  to  a  con\enient  ]inint,  and  at  a  time  when  the  pl-^y 
was  well  before  the  footlights  he  entered  the  box.  closed 
the  door  and  fired  the  fatal  shot  which  imade  Andrew 
Johnson  President,  and  he.  Booth,  an  outcast,  a  wanderer, 
and  ever  after  with  the  brand  of  Cain.  ".\s  I  fired."  says 
Booth,  "the  same  instant  that  I  leaped  from  the  box  to 
the  stage  my  riirht  leg  becoming  tangled  in  the  drapery, 
fracturing  my  right  shin  bone  about  six  or  eight  inches 
above  the  ankle.  T  reached  my  horse  in  safety  which  .by 
arrangement  was  being  held  by  Herrold  back  of  the  theatre 
and  close  to  the  door.  With  Herrold's  assistance  I  mount- 
ed and  rode  at  full  speed,  reaching  the  east  Potomac  bridge, 
crossing  the  same  at  full  pace.  On  coming  to  the  gate  at 
the  east  end  there  stood  a  federal  guard  who  asked,  "Where 
.ire  you  iming?"  to  which  I  merely  used  the  letters  T.  B. 
On  a  further  question  easy  to  answer,  "Where?"  the  full 
password,  T.  B.  Road  was  given.  Without  further  cere- 
mony the  guard  called  for  help  in  raising  the  gate  quickly, 
when  I  again  put  spur  for  Surrattsville,  where  I  waited  for 
Herrold  to  catch  up  as  prearranged.  After  waiting  a  few 
minutes  Herrold  joined  me  and  we  rode  the  remainder  of 
the  night  until  about  I  o'clock  in  the  morning  of  April  15. 
when  we  reached  the  home  of  Dr.  Samuel  Mudd.  where  my 
right  riding  boot  was  removed  by  cutting  a  slit  in  it  and 
my  wounded  foot  and  leg  were  dressed  by  a  banding  of 
strips  of  cloth  and  splints  of  a  cigar  box.  We  remained 
at  the  ^Tndd  h^me  the  r»>mninder  f^f  the  day,  and  nt  night- 
fall,   leaving    Ihe    'lit     ridintr    bnrt.    \vp    procredrd     ( n     I'wr 


WANDERINGS  OF  J    WILKES  HOOTII  25 


journey,    usiuK   a    crutch    luadc   from    a    broom    handle.      Our 
next    liaul    up    was    at    tlie   liome   of   a    southern    sympatlii/.er 
named   Cox,    about   4    or    5    o'clock    of    April    16".      Mr.    Cnx 
refu.'-ed  to  admit   us  in  the  bouse  on  account  of  news  of  tli-i 
President    beinj;    shot    havinfr    preceeded    us.      However,    be 
called  his  manager  and   instructed   bim   to  bide  us  in   a   pine 
thicket    near   the    Potomac   banks   just    back    of    the    planta- 
tion.     The   manajrer   was   of   medium    beigiit,    approximately 
my    weipbt,   but   not   quite   .so   tall,   swarthy,   black    eyes   and 
bair,    with    a    short    irrowth    of   beard.      T    called    him    by    the 
name    familiarly    used    when    not    knowinfi'   the    true    name — 
"Johnny,    afterwards    Ruddy    because    we    bad    beard    Cox 
address  bin)  by  that   na'ue."      Neg'otiations   were  made   with 
Ruddy    to    deliver    Booth     and    Herrold    safely    across    the 
country  to  the  care  and  custody  of  the  Confederate  soldiers 
under    Mo.sby's    command    on    the    Rhappahanock    near    and 
south   of  Bowlinsr  Green:  $300.00  dollars  beinjr  the  retainer 
airreed   upon.      Here  Ruddy   left   Booth   and  Herrold  in  hid- 
ings'  and   started   on   foot   to    Bowling   Green,   a   distance    of 
something  like   thirty-five   miles,   to   arrange   to   meet   Lieu- 
tenants  Rutledge    and    Bainbridge    at    a   time   and   place   to 
be   made   definite,   on    the   Rhappahanock — dividinsr  line   be- 
tween camps  of  federal  and  confederate  forces.      Ruddy  was 
gone    from    the    17th    to    the    21st,    meantime    Booth    and 
Herrold  being  guarded  and  cared  for  by  Cox's  half-brother 
Jones.      Ruddy  had  arranged  with  Captain  Jett,  Lieutenant.s 
Rutledge  and  Bainbridge  to  meet  Booth,  Herrold  and  Ruddy 
at    a    designated    point    on    the    Rhappahanock    near    Ports 
Conway  and  Royal  at  2  o'clock  p.  m.  of  April  22.     Whither 
they   started    on    the    evening   of    April    21,   crossing   to   the 
south   side  of  the   Potomac   18  miles  from   the  point  agreed 
upon  through  an  open  country  18  miles  to  the  Rappahanock. 
Of   course    it    would   be    over-risk   to    attempt   this   venture, 
especially    as    the    country    was    being    scoured    by    federal 
man-hunter.s — soldiers   in    a   vie    as   to   who   should    keep   the 
other    fellow    off    track    until    bagging    the    game    for    the 
"honor"   of   it:    others  to  throw   every  one   else   off  track   in 
orde  rto  gain  the  fabuloiis  reward  said  to  have  been  offered 
without  a  fifty-fifty  divide.      Hence  Ruddy  made  a  deal  with 
a   plantaticm    darky    who   owned   a   pair   of  bony  ponies   and 
an    old    ramshackle    wagon.      T^ewis,   the    old    darkey,    placed 
straw   in   the  bottom    of   the   wagon   bed   and    on   this   Booth 
was   tucked    and    stretched    out    so    as   to   take   up    as   little 
visible  exterior  as  possible  like  a  sealed  package  to  prevent 
discovery.      More  straw  and  slats  were  lain  across  the  lower 
section    of   the   wagon    box    on    which    an    old    mattress   was 
.spread,   old    nuilts,   blanket   remnants,   and   such    other   rub- 
bish  as   a   darkey   might  be  expected   to   possess   on   making 
an    inventory    of   .stock   by    way   of   moving.     To    make   the 


26  WANDERINGS  OF  J    WILKES  BOOTH 


outfit  more  unsuspicious  a  chicken  coop  was  fastened  on 
behind  and  in  this  were  some  old  hens  and  a  rooster;  with 
straw  bedding,  feed,  and  water  bowls.  The  start  was  made 
on  this  perilous  trip  at  6  a.  m.,  April  22,  so  as  to  be  at  the 
appointed  place  on  the  Rhappahanock  on  schedule  time. 
Ruddy  and  Herrold  walking  behind  at  such  precautious 
distance  as  not  to  arouse  suspicion  should  any  man-hunter 
appear.  Booth  had  in  his  inside  pocket  a  memorandum 
book  in  which  was  a  photo  and  his  diary.  There  was  also 
a  photo  of  his  sister,  a  few  personal  letters,  and  a  check 
on  Bank  of  Ontario  which  had  been  made  payable  to  Ruddy. 
After  crossing  the  Rhappahanock,  Lewis  remarked  with 
excitement  that  soldiers  were  coming.  Booth  overhearing 
decided  that  it  was  federal  soldiers,  and  as  he  was  being 
hurriedly  dragged  out  by  the  heels  he  had  all  kinds  ef 
spooky  visions;  but  the  troops  proved  to  be  Jett,  Bain- 
bridge,  and  Rutledge  there  on  the  dot.  Booth  discovered 
at  once  that  on  being  dragged  from  his  bed  of  straw  his 
memorandum  book  and  other  pocket  contents  had  fallen 
out;  hence  he  requested  Ruddy  to  recross  the  river  and 
hunt  the  old  darkey  before  too  late  and  recover  his  lost 
treasures.  After  receiving  the  check  which  it  seems  had 
not  been  lost  out.  Ruddy  got  on  the  batteau  boat;  and  as 
they  verc  t^^o  dangerously  e\pnped  to  wait,  the  three, 
Bainbridge,  Rutledge,  and  Booth  made  a  hurry  drive  for 
the  Garrett  home  about  three  and  a  half  miles  up  and  off 
from  the  Potomac  road,  while  it  was  arransfed  that  Jett, 
Herrold,  and  Ruddy  should  go  from  there  to  Bowling  Green 
to  purchase  a  shoe  for  Booth's  game  foot,  and  a  few  other 
necessary  items,  and  make  further  arrangements  for  the 
safe  delivery  within  the  Confederate  lines  and  that  they — 
Ruddy,  Jett,  and  Herrold  should  be  able  to  join  them  at 
the  Garrett  home  next  evening.  W^ith  this  understanding 
Lieutenants  Bainbridge  and  Rutledge  placed  Booth  on  the 
Jett  horse  and  the  trio  were  soon  safe  in  the  Garrett  home. 
Booth  being  left  with  a  heavy  wooden  cane,  having  "dis- 
carded the  crutch,"  wliile  Bainbridge  and  Rutledge  were  to 
keep  watch  from  a  hill  some  distance  away  for  any  threat- 
ened danger.  .About  2  p.  m.  of  April  23  while  Booth 
was  enjoying  a  loll  on  the  lawn  of  the  front  yard,  Bain- 
bridge  and  Rutledge  noticed  some  Yankees  across  the 
Rhappahanock  and  immediately  the  guards  darted  into  the 
thicket.  Arriving  at  the  Garrett  home  they  notified  Booth 
to  take  to  tall  timber  at  once  without  so  much  as  a  fare- 
well to  his  hosts.  Bainbridge  and  Rutledge  were  evidently 
familiar  with  the  topography  and  other  physical  conditions 
of  that  section  and  readily  instructed  Booth  just  where  to 
land,  the  winds  and  elbows  and  other  devious  contours,  and 
there    he    should    listen    for    a    signal    from    them    and    they 


WANDl'.RINGS  OF  J    WILKES  HOOTH  27 


would  join   iiiin    as  soon    as   safe,    whicli    was   about   i   p.    m. 
Bainbridge  and   Rutledge  were   on   the   scene  with   an   extra 
horse.     They   rode  westerly   until  about  twelve  o'clock  that 
night,  when  they  rested  in  the  wocds.     Giving  directions  as 
to  the  further  route   Bainbridge  and  Rutledge  at  last  sepa- 
rated from   Booth  25  miles  west  of  Garrett's  or  Port  Royal 
and    Conway.      Booth    rode    west    all    that    day,    then    south- 
west until    10   a.   m.   second  day   from   the  Garrett  home  via 
a  dim   road.      He  stopped  at   a   small  farm  house  on   a  blind 
trail   where   tliree   elderly   women   took   him    in,   a   "wounded 
confederate    soldier"    for    breakfast — self    and    horse.      Here 
Booth   rested  a  few  hours,  riding  the  remainder  of  the  day 
and  until   near   12  at  night  when  he  camped  in   a  clump  of 
small    i)uslies   on    a   small    creek   bottom    some   distance    from 
the  road  for  the  rest  of  the  night.      At   an   early  hour  next 
morning  he   took   breakfast    at   the   home    of    an    old    gentle- 
man   and    wife;    then    hurried    in    a    southwest    direction    for 
some  days,  where   Confederate  soldiers  were  in   strong  evi- 
dence.    Down    through    West    Virginia,    crossing    the    Big 
Sandy   at  Warfield's  in  eastern   Kentucky,  thence  two  days 
southwest  covering  about  sixty  miles  where  he  found  shelter 
with    a   young   widow   named    Stapleton,   with    a    small   boy. 
As  a  wounded  Confederate  he  was  safe  here,   remaining  a 
week.     Thence    south    to    the    Mississippi    River    where    he 
found    a    safe    crossing,    and    a    trifle    south    of    the    mouth 
of  the   Arkansas  river.      After  parting  with   Bainbridge   and 
Rutledge  the  first  night   out  from   the  Garrett  home  Booth 
was  accompanied  much  of  the  way  by  Dr.  D.  B.  O'Brannon. 
Reaching    the    Arkansas    he    followed    it    southerly    on 
the  east  bank  until  near  Fort  Gibson  where  he  crossed  and 
associated  first  among  the  Cherokees  who  treated  him  ho.s- 
pitably,    but    they    were    too    highly    educated    and    civilized 
for  safety,  hence  he  attached  himself  to  a  band  of  Apaches 
whose  women,  he  says,  were  rather  intelligent  and  many  of 
them   really  good  looking;  but   the   men    were  not  so  intelli- 
gent  and  didn't  like  the  idea    of   work;   especially  the   chief 
who  was  excpptiimally  lazy,  but   equally  kind   as  was   every 
member   of    the    tribe. 

Crossing  the  Plains  as  "Jesse  Smith 
In  the  course  of  a  year  he  tired  of  that  nomadic  career 
and  longed  again  for  civilization,  to  find  compani.onship 
consrenial;  hence  bidding  his  Indian  friends  a  last  han(7- 
shake  started  across  the  country'  passing  through  probably 
what  are  Pottawatomie,  Cleveland  and  Canadian  counties, 
then  bearing  north  and  crossing  into  Kansas  not  far  from 
Kiowa;  thence  westerly  hugging  the  streams  until  he  reached 
Nebraska  City  where  I^evi  Thrailkill  was  fitting  out  a  crew 
to  transport  supplies  for  troops  at  Salt  Lake,  via  horse 
teams.     Under   the   name    of   Jesse   Smith,   Booth    engaged. 


28  WANDERINGS  OF  J.  WILKES  BOOTH 

Thrailkill  had  a  contract  with  the  government  to  supply 
provisions  for  the  troops  at  Salt  Lake  and  readily  gave  the 
stranger  a  pair  of  lines.  According  to  Mr.  Thrailkill  who 
resided  near  Enid  at  the  time  of  the  suicide,  Smith  seemed 
to  know  nothing  whatever  about  handling  horses,  could 
neither  harness  nor  unharness  them,  but  soon  learned  to 
handle  the  lines  fairly  well.  He  was  such  a  genial  fellow, 
however,  that  the  other  teamsters  gladly  relieved  him  of 
the  task  of  harnessing  and  unharnessing,  as  weJI  as  from 
camp  duties.  He  was  the  life  and  joy  of  the  camp,  always 
with  a  word  of  clieer,  a  recitation  of  some  poem  or  quot- 
ing great  dramatists,  especially  Shakespeare  which  was  done 
in  tragedy,  pathos  or  emotion  as  the  case  might  warrant. 
In  fact,  he  could  laugh  with  those  who  laugh,  shed  artificial 
tears  and  shape  his  face  to  any  occasion.  When  near  Salt 
Lake,  Smith  left  the  train  without  so  much  as  bidding 
good-bye  or  drawing  his  pay.  From  here  it  was  learned 
that  he  made  direct  for  San  Francisco  where  after  visiting 
his  mother  and  brother  he  made  his  way  into  Old  Mexico, 
the  only  tarry  so  far  as  known  being  at  Fresno.  In  Mexico 
he  attached  himself  to  Maximillian's  forces,  but  soon  had  a 
misunderstanding  and  was  only  saved  from  serious  conse- 
quences through  the  intervention  of  Catholics,  to  which 
denom-nr^i'^n  It"  b^'mtrrd  ^r-d  "'nf^  a  d^vu*-  niember.  For 
a  while  he  roamed  over  the  lands  of  the  Aztecs  in  the 
guise   of   an   itinerant   priest. 

Becomes  A  Country  Merchant 
From  Mexico,  about  1871  or  1872,  he  made  his  way 
into  Texas,  stopping  at  Glenrose  Mills  at  the  foot  of  Bosque 
Mountain  in  Hood  County,  that  being  then  the  boundary  of 
western  civilization.  Here  he  bought  out  a  dealer  in 
tobacco  and  carried  a  small  supply  of  groceries  and  whiskey, 
the  man  from  whom  he  purchased  moving  to  Granberry, 
some  thirty  miles  east.  Meantime  continued  the  business 
trusting  it  mostly  to  a  Mexican  porter,  and  occupying  a 
rough  log  house,  the  rear  end  as  a  living  room  for  he  and 
the  porter,  and  the  front  as  a  "store".  It  seems  that  Booth 
either  failed  to  notify  authorities  of  the  change  or  secure 
license  required  of  those  dealing  in  tobacco  and  whiskey. 
The  result  was  the  party  from  whom  he  purchased  was 
indicted  by  the  government  grand  jury  at  Tyler  for  doing 
business  without  the  required  license.  The  indicted  man 
consulted  a  j'oung  attorney  who  had  drifted  in  from  Tenn- 
essee to  try  his  fortune  in  the  land  of  cowboys  and  cactus. 
Mr.  Bates  then  called  in  Booth,  who  sailed  under  the  name 
of  John  St.  Helen,  and  with  whom  he  was  slightly  at  that 
time  acquainted.  He  requested  of  Booth  that  he  go  to 
Tyler  and  thus  relieve  the  innocent  from  trouble  for  which 
he,  B»oth,  was  wholly  responsible.     He  asked  time  to  con- 


WANDERINGS  OF  J    WILKES  BOOTH  2P 

sider,  which  was  granted.  In  due  time  he  called  on  the 
attorney  and  told  him  that  there  were  reasons  why  he  did 
not  dare  risk  going  to  Tyler;  that  in  fact  he  was  sailing 
under  an  assumed  name,  and  there  being  so  many  detec- 
tives and  government  spies,  and  others  always  hanging 
around  the  Tyler  court,  the  risk  would  be  too  great.  He 
would,  however,  do  whatever  he  could,  and  suggested  that 
the  attorney  take  his  client  to  Tyler  and  there  arrange  for 
a  plea  of  guilty,  which  would  undoubtedly  draw  but  a 
slight  fine;  that  he.  Booth,  would  furnish  the  funds.  The 
proposition  was  accepted  and  Booth  whipped  out  a  leather 
wallet  containing  an  amount  of  shinplaster  and  the  attor- 
ney and  his  client  lit  out  overland.  Arriving  at  Tyler 
where  Judge  Brown  was  the  U.  S.  District  Judge  and  Jack 
Evans  District  Attorney  the  matter  of  plea  and  fine  was 
arranged  and  the  prisoner  discharged.  The  young  attornej' 
and  his  client  returned  to  Cranberry  and  handed  Booth  the 
wallet  and  contents,  less  the  expense  and  fine.  Booth 
seemed  highly  delighted  at  the  happy  result;  but  manifested 
much  concern  about  his  admission  of  an  assumed  name. 
Hence  he  called  on  the  attorney  and  requested  secrecy, 
at  the  same  time  handing  him  a  handsome  roll,  saying  "Now 
that  you  are  my  attorney  with  my  interest  in  keeping  I 
shall  feel  from  now  on  safe  from  exposure,  you  being  the 
only  mortal  living  possessed  of  the  secret.  After  a  time 
Booth  moved  to  Cranberry  bringing  the  porter  along,  and 
he  and  the  voung  Tennesseean  became  the  fastest  of  friends. 


At  the  close  of  the  war,  Lieut.  M.  B.  Ruggles  became 
associated  with  the  New  York  firm  of  Constable  &  Co., 
which  his  brother  Edward  S.  retired  to  a  farm  in  Kings 
county,  Va.  The  father.  Gen.  Dan  Ruggles,  also  retired 
to  his  Virginia  farm.  Jett  settled  in  Carlin  county,  Va. 
but  subsequently  moved  to  Baltimore  M'here  he  married  the 
daughter  of  a  prominent  physician,  and  took  to  the  road 
as  a  commercial  traveler.  But  the  three  in  Booth's  escape 
finally  associated  themselves  under  the  firm  name  of  Jett, 
Bainbridge  and  Ruggles.  Lieut.  Bainbridge  settled  in  New 
York  associated  in  the  firm  of  Jett,  Bainbridsre  and  Ruggles. 
In  reply  to  letters  written  as  late  as  1889  each  of  these 
gentlemen  unhesitatingly  give  the  part  they  took  i-n  the 
escape  of  Booth,  and  in  each  case  the  statement  of  Booth 
while  in  Texas  is  fully  corroborated.  "While  crossing  the 
Rhappahanock,"  says  Lieut.  Ruggles,  "Booth  wore  a  black 
slouch  hat  pulled  down  well  over  his  forehead,"  etc.  That 
after  landing  Booth  safely  in  the  Garrett  home,  they  next 
day  saw  two  Federals  on  horseback  in  hot  pursuit;  that 
they,  Ruggles  and  Bainbridge,  were  signaled  for  a  parley, 
but   instead   made   a    rapid   dash   into   the   thick   underbrush 


30 


WANDERINGS  OF  .1    WILKES  BOOTH 


and  reached  the  Garrett  home  in  time  to  warn  Bootli  who 
immediately  struck  out  for  the  tall  timber  and  interming- 
ling jungles,  and  then  they  made  their  way  to  safety;  that 
when  warning  Booth  he  was  given  a  signal  by  which  he 
would  know  it  was  they,  and  that  they  would  join  him 
as  soon  as  safety  would  warrant;  that  they  did  go  to  the 
hiding  place  of  Booth,  and  together  they  made  a  safe  get- 
away, very  much  as  related  by  Booth  in  his  Texas  state- 
ment. 

In  a  letter  from  the  Judge  Advocate's  office  in  Wash- 
ington City  under  date  of  January  23,  1898,  Judge  G. 
Norman  Lieber  and  his  secretary  G.  D.  Micklejohn  join  in 
a  reply  to  one  asking  if  it  would  interest  the  Department 
to  know  that  John  Wilkes  Booth  was  at  that  day  still  alive; 
that  while  the  Department  had  no  positive  or  direct  proof 
that  the  man  killed  at  the  Garrett  home  was  Booth,  they 
had  circumstantial  evidence,  and  any  further  evidence  as 
proofs  would  not  interest  the  Department. 

Booth,  or  the  mj^sterious  strange'-,  was  traced  to  Lead- 
ville  in  the  late  fall  of  1878.  Next  to  Fresno,  California,  in 
1884;  from  whence  probably  he  wended  back  to  his  old 
haunts  at  Fort  Worth,  as  per  scene  in  Pickwick  bar  else- 
where. 


SIDE-LIGHTS   ON    BOOTH    IN   OKLAHOMA 

The   story   now  leads   into   Oklahoma  briefly   as  told   in 
the    Historia    account,    which    is    repeated    with    such    notes 
and  remembered  incidents  of  the  visit  to  Waukomis  as  havp 
lince  been  discovered  or  that  can  be  called  to  mind.. 
(Reproduced  from  Historia,  October,  1919.) 

Although  half  a  century  has  passed 
since  the  tragedy  in  which  J.  Wilkes 
Booth  was  the  active  principal,  there 
has  been  no  lessening  in  reverence  for 
the  name  of  Lincoln,  nor  much  in  the 
bitterness  toward  the  man  who  wrought 
his  death.  This  is  not  confined  to  those 
still  living  who  have  personal  memor- 
ories  of  that  day,  but  the  sspirit  of 
the  parent  has  been  transmitted  to  the 
son  with  added  energj'  to  such  an  ex- 
tent that  any  reference  to  J.  W^ilkes 
Booth  requires  a  touch  of  delicacy  lest 
censure  if  not  reprimand  follow. 

Indeed  it  means  a  "path  of  coals" 
for  any  one  who  dares  intimate  that 
Booth     was     not     the     man     killed     at 


WANDERINGS  OF  J    WILKES  BOOTH  31 


the  Garrett  home  in  \'irginia  in  1865;  or  that  he  escaped 
and  during  his  nomadic  meanderings  made  Oklahoma  a 
favorite  sojourning  place  until  the  "ending  of  the  trial" 
at  Enid,  in  January,  1903,  via  the  suicide  route.  And  yet 
there  is  vastly  more  evidence  in  favor  of  that  contention 
than  was  ever  produced  that  it  was  Booth  who  was  killed 
at  the  Garrett  home,  instead  of  some  one  else.  However, 
it  is  not  the  purpose  here  to  go  into  details  of  the  tragedy 
further  than  to  throw  a  little  calcium  across  the  tortuous 
path  of  him,  whom  for  simplicity  sake  is  here  designated 
as  Booth,  although  that  path  was  under  an  alias  sky, 
especially  that  of  David  E.  George;  and  that  path  will 
here  be  confined  as  near  as  practicable  to  Oklahoma,  with 
only  such  other  references  as  may  seem  tending  to  es- 
tablish identity  of  George  and  Booth  as  one  and  the  same. 
As  a  prelude,  reference  is  made  to  a  letter  now  among 
the  manuscripts  of  the  Oklahoma  Historical  Society  and 
which  will  follow:  but  before  introducing  the  letter,  the 
reader  will  be  carried  back  to  1897,  when  it  will  be  re- 
membered by  old-timers,  especially  of  Oklahoma  City, 
occurred  the  death  of  General  George  H.  Thomas,  whose 
remains  were  shipped  by  his  nephew  to  the  old  home  at 
Portland,  Maine.  General  Thomas  came  to  Oklahoma  City 
from  Texas.  He  at  once  inocculated  himself  with  the 
spirit  of  the  town's  active  citizenship,  and  became  instru- 
mental in  building  the  city  water  works,  holding  52  shares, 
or  a  majority  stock,  which  he  transferred  to  the  city  in 
1892.  His  son  George  H.,  Jr.,  soon  after  left  the  country 
and  witli  his  wife  wandered  over  foreign  lands,  first  to 
Stockholm,  Sweden,  from  whence  he  wrote  friends  here 
enclosing  a  photo  of  himself  and  wife  on  a  log  angling 
for  fish  from  one  of  the  clear  streams  of  northland.  The 
next  letter  (with  photo  enclosure)  hailed  from  Russia 
Later  he  took  up  a  residence  in  "gay  Paree,"  France, 
from  whence  he  wrote;  this  being  soon  after  war  had 
been  declared  between  Germany  and  France.  George 
suggested  a  scheme  for  bringing  the  Germans  at  once  to 
their  knees— simply  sending  a  few  Americans  over  and  place 
them  on  the  trenches,  and  then  dare  Germany  to  fire. 
French  women,  he  declared,  had  been  experimented  with  in 
that  role,  but  the  Germans  cruelly  ignored  petticoats"  and 
fired  througii,  over,  beyond,  everywhere  into  the  trenches. 

The  same  year  in  which  General  Thomas  died  in  this 
city.  General  Edward  L.  Thomas,  who  did  service  during 
the  Rebellion  on  the  C.  S.  A.  side,  died  at  McAlester  where 
he  had  served  a  number  of  years  as  Indian  agent  for  the 
Sac  and  Fox  consolidated  tribe.  Seeing  an  account  of  the 
death  of  the  two  Thomases,  Mrs.  Louisa  A.  Walton  wrote 
a    letter    from    Beverly,    N.    J.,    to    the    commander    of    the 


32  WANDERINGS  OF  ,1    WIl.KES  BOOTH 

U.  C.  V.  at  Oklalinina  Cily  making  inquiry  concerning  a 
certain  General  Thomas  for  whom  she  was  searching.  On 
receiving  such  information  as  was  available  at  this  end 
of  the  line  concerning  the  Oklahoma  Thomases,  she  wrote 
again  to  tiie  Commander  of  the  Oklahoma  division  U.  C. 
v.,  at  that  time  Captain  John  O.  Casler,  now  landscape 
gardener  at  the  Confederate  home  near  Ardmore.  This 
letter  was  under  Beverly  date  of  April   13,   1898. 

"General  Edward  L.  Thomas  is  not  the  man  I  mean. 
The  General  Thomas  of  whom  I  desire  information  died 
either  in  the  summer  of  95  or  96.  I  tried  to  find  a  little 
record  sketch  of  his  war  record  in  Philadelphia!  because 
I  saw  it  in  the  'Philadelphia  Evening  Telegraph.'  I  put 
the  paper  away  carefully,  but  it  was  accidentally  destroyed 
by  one  of  my  servants  before  I  clipped  the  piece  out. 
They  do  not  remember  it  at  the  "Telegraph  office,'  and 
have  searched  files  of  papers  for  it  without  success;  but 
as  several  editions  are  published  daily  and  one  only  filed 
I  suppose  it  was  in  the  edition  they  destroyed.  They 
tell  me  that  Henry  'George'  Thomas  was  a  Confederate 
General.  'George'  Henry  a  Union  General,  and  that  the 
one  in  Oklahoma  must  be  the  one.  He  is  not,  for  he, 
(the  one  I  mean),  died  earlier  than  '97.  I  met  him  in 
Philadelphia  in  1863.  He  fainted  on  the  pavement  in 
front  of  my  Aunt's  house  one  summer  morning;  her 
servants  carried  him  into  the  house;  and  we  used  the 
proper  restoratives  and  sent  him  in  the  carriage  to  the 
depot  (Baltimore)  when  he  was  able  to  continue  his 
journey.  He  was  in  company  with  a  younger  man,  who 
I  never  saw  again  until  I  saw  his  face  in  papers  as'  the 
murderer  of  'Lincoln'  (John  Wilkes  Booth).  Their  faces 
are  indelibly  stamped  on  my  memory;  also  the  conversa- 
tion. Though  we  urged  them  to  tell  us  their  names,  they 
refused,  though  they  assured  us  they  were  very  grateful. 
I  think  they  feared  we  would  betray  them  because  we 
were  Union  women.  No  true  woman  would  be  guilty  of 
such  an  act,  for  suffering  always  appeals  to  her  heart, 
sometimes  against  her  better  judgment.  My  Aunt  daily 
left  her  luxurious  home  to  nurse  the  sick  and  wounded 
soldiers  at  15th,  J.  Filbert  St.  Hospital  (now  Broad  St. 
Station  of  Pennsylvania  Railroad).  There  were  a  dozen 
Confederates  there  at  that  time,  and  they  were  just  as 
carefully  cared  for  as  the  Union  soldiers.  She  lost  her 
life  from  too  great  devotion  to  the  work.  'Booth'  told  us 
that  his  friend  had  been  ill,  and  in  his  anxiety  to  reach 
home  had  over-estimated  his  strength.  Taking  my  Aunt's 
hand  in  his  and  looking  her  full  in  the  face,  he  said, 
'"Would  you  befriend  us  if  you  knew  us  to  be  enemies?' 
Her    reply    wag,    'If   thine    enemy   hunger,    feed    him;    if   he 


i 


■*  if"-., 


BRVANTOWN. 
The  Place  Gen.  Oana  Reach^^d  on  the  Mornlne  and  Remained 
During    the    Day    of    April    I5th,    1865.    While    Booth    Was 
Resting  That    Same   Day  at  the    Home  ot   Or    Mudd.   Only 
Three   and    a   Half    Miles   Away 


"'     _    ''Wf;!!l?'^i;;';'"'*'"''^;Tv'y'^i|j^^^ 


HOME    OP    DR     JfVDD, 
Where    Booth    and    Hero'.J    3u/ad    All    NlfhV 


Surrattsville   Tavern. 


?¥' 


it^'-^^^=h 


""^ 


K 
H 


Home  of  Capt.  Sam  Cox 


WANDERINGS  OF  J    WILKES  BOOTH  33 


thirst,  give  him  drink.'  'Yen  are  a  noble  woman,  and 
have  ministered  to  a  man  whose  life  can  illy  be  spared; 
may  God  bless  you  for  your  kindness'  was  'Booth's'  reply. 
Aunt  entered  into  life  eternal  December  31,  1864,  and 
never  knew  the  names  of  these  men,  or  the  tragic  death 
of  'Booth'.  Nor  did  I,  until  t.incdn's  death  know  who 
Booth  was.  Nor  until  over  thirty  years  did  I  know  the 
name  of  the  sick  man,  until  I  read  his  death  notice  in 
1896  or  7.  I  was  a  very  ycung  girl  at  the  time  of  this 
meeting  and  I  am  the  only  one  living  of  the  quartette. 
I  shall  never  forget  these  two  hours,  nor  the  shock  I  re- 
ceived at  seeing  Booth's  face  as  the  face  of  an  assassin. 
I  had  woven  a  romance  arrund  him.  and  expected  to  see 
his  beautiful  brow  crowned  with  laurels.  Alas  for  my 
dream.  Both  men  were  in  citizen  dress.  General  Thomas 
was  a  medium  sized  man  (short  compared  with  my  father 
ard  brothcrss  who  are  all  6  foot  and  over),  dark  mustache, 
closrly  cropped  hair,  swarthy  complexion:  had  a  white  silk 
handkerchief  knoltrd  around  h's  neck.  The  piece  I  refer 
to  spoke  of  his  illness  in  1863  in  Philadelphia,  from  a 
wcu'^d  rn  the  back  of  his  neck;  (that  accounting  for  the 
handkerchief),  that  when  rn  his  way  to  join  his  command 
he  was  recognized  in  Baltimore  as  nn  escaped  prisoner 
of  war;  and  was  taken  to  Fortress  Monroe."  So  he  must 
have  been  captured  the  dav  after  we  saw  him.  I  can 
not  remember  the  initials  of  his  name,  and  he  must  have 
been  in  the  thirties  when  I  saw  him;  for  he  was  much 
older  than  Booth.  Since  reading  that  sketch  I  remember 
that  Booth's  sister,  Mrs.  Clark,  lived  one  three  squares 
from  my  Aunt,  and  I  suppose  she  was  caring  for  him 
in  his  illness.  I  think  this  General  Thomas  must  have 
belonged  to  a  Virginia  family.  Was  there  not  more  than 
one   General  Thomas  in   Confederate   Service?" 

Neither  of  the  Oklahoma  Thomases  proved  to  be  the 
one  wanted,  and  she  was  advised  to  write  to  certain  parties 
at  Richmond,  Va.,  which  she  did,  locating  the  Thomas  she 
was  after,  but  who  had  died  some  time  previous. 

It  seems  that  J.  Wilkes  Booth  was  then  associated  with 
General  Bell  in  efforts  to  free  Confederate  prisoners,  for 
which  General  Bell  was  subsequently  hung  by  the  Federal 
government.  One  of  Booth's  beneficiaries  was  the  General 
Thomas  for  whom  Mrs.  Walton  was  searching.  He  was 
a  Confederate  and  had  been  taken  prisoner,  and  confined 
in  Fort  Delaware,  from  whence  by  the  friendly  and  sym- 
pathetic aid  of  Booth  he  escaped.  The  General  Edward 
I>.  Thomas  referred  to  was  a  Brigadier  in  command  of  a 
Georgia  brigade,  and  was  an  uncle  of  Heck  Thomas,  the 
famous  member  of  the  "big  three''  marshals  who  gained 
^ch    fame    in    out-law    hunting    in     Oklahoma,     and     who 


34  WANDERINGS  OF  J    WILKES  BOOTH 

with  Honorable  W.  H.  Tilghman  and  Chris  Madscn  cut 
central  figures  in  Mr.  Tilgh-nan's  movie — "Last  of  the 
Oklahoma  Outlaws."  Heck  Thnmas  served  as  cornier  for 
his  uncle  the  last  three  years  of  Ihe  Rebellion,  beinp  only 
14.  years  old  when  he  entered  the  service.  Died  at  Lawton, 
in    1916. 

Verily  this  Walton  inquiry  seems  in  some  respects 
rather  coincidental,  inviting  to  the  field  of  speculation. 
Why  comes  from  the  far  east  westward  half  way  across 
the  continent  to  Oklahoma  this  weird  Booth  incident  at 
this  particular  time  when  he  was  in  wanderings  on  the 
border  fringes  of  th's  very  section?  And  then  the  name 
of  Henry  "George"  Thomas,  the  "George"  being  quoted — 
the  name  under  which  Booth  went  at  th^  time  rf  com- 
mitting suicide  at  Enid  five  years  later.  What  force  was 
behind  it  all?  Cculd  it  have  b^en  the  Aunt  referred  to 
by  Mrs.  Walton?  and  if  so,  might  she  not  have  had  other 
Booth  maUeis  under  veil  which  the  world  will  never 
know?  There  are  other  transpirirgs  wljicli  seem  coinci- 
dental that  might  lead  to  the  field  of  speculation:  Boston 
Corbett,  who  killed  s^me  ere.  alleged  to  be  Booth,  at  the 
Garrett  farm  in  1865,  drifted  west  into  Kansas  at  thi.. 
particular  seasrn,  where  he  subser-uenlly  b'came  sergeant 
of  thp  Kansas  Senate;  thence  to  Texas  wliere  Booth  spent 
the  '70's,  and  asa'in  in  later  days,  and  wh^re  he.  Corbett, 
went  mad  and  died.  It  mav  be  called  to  mind  th^t  Boston 
Corbett  shied  clear  as  pcssible  rf  the  Booth  episrde  matter 
and  that  any  inadvertant  reference  to  h's  part  in  the 
Garrett  home  tragedy  crused  a  discernable  quivering,  a 
slight  voice-tremor  and  biting  of  the  lips.  So  far  as"  the 
Historia  min  knows,  Boston  Corbett  never  mentioned  the 
name  of  Booth,  his  only  reference  being,  and  that  only 
when  the  question  was  pressed:  "We — killed  a  man."  in- 
variably using  the  "we."  Another  thing  may  not  be 
altogether  out  of  the  line  of  coincidentals:  That  at  the 
very  date  of  the  Walton  letter — that  is,  the  same  year — 
1897,  General  D.  D.  Dana  emerged  from  his  garden  at 
the  old  Maine  home  for  the  first  time  to  give  to  the 
-world  through  the  Boston  press  his  account  of  the  tracing 
of  Booth  so  minutely  throughout  his  wanderings,  from 
crossing  the  Potomac  bridge  to  Bryantown,  to  Dr.  Mudd's, 
the  Cox  home,  the  Patuxent  river,  the  Potomac;  the  neigh- 
ing of  his  horses  and  their  slaughter  to  keep  them  silent; 
what  Bnrth  said,  how  he  now  and  then  turned  in  his 
saddle — his  very  thoughts,  uttered  and  unuttered,  during 
these  hide-and-seek  dodglngs  until  the  final  "ending  of  the 
trail"  at  the  Garrett  home  and  burial  of  the  remains 
"under  a  slab  in  the  navy  yard  near  the  jail,"  according 
to  General  Dana,  and  at  various  other  places  at  the  same 


WANDERINGS  OF  J.  WILKES  BOOTH  35 


time,    as    stated   by    various    other    eminents.     Indeed    what' 
a    line    of    inconsistencies,    incoherencies,   discrepancies    aind 
coincidentals  conspire  to   set   the   mind   wondering,   and   the 
imagination  wandering  tlirough  vauge  fields  of  speculation  f 
Even    the    writer    is    not    wholly    immune    from    the    arrows 
of    the    speculative    archer,    although    he    was    in    conscious 
existence    at    the    time    of    the    trngedy    which    left    its    in- 
delible   impression.     In   fact    it   f('l    to   his    lot    to    assist    in    ^ 
receiving  telegraphic  reports  of  this  tr;:gedy   from  tli     h    ur 
of   firing   the   fatal    shot   to   the    closing    of    last   ceiei  i  !-'.ies 
over   the   remains   of   the   d:  :id   presiden..      During   th      '80s 
the    writer    filed    this     report     with    the    Kansas    Hist^'rlcai 
Society,   which    be    was   partially    instrumental    in    establish- 
ing during  a   meeting  of  the   Kansas  editors   at   Manhattan, 
April  9,  1879.     In  taking  this  report  from  the  wires  the  old 
Morris    system    was    used — indentures    on    a    paper    ribbon 
which   automatically  unwound   from   a  reel   much   like  those 
used  today  only  in  movies  where  the  young  stock   gambler 
unwinds    and    reads    the    market's    up     and    down    to    see 
wiietlier  he  wins  and  gets  the  girl,  or  goes  broke  and  loses 
her.     The   report  was  transcribed   on  long  sheets   of  yellow 
"onion  peel"  paper,  and  made  quite  a  voluminous  roll.      As 
the    writer    had    never    been    in    the    East    and    Booth    had 
never  be<  n   in  the  West  before  the   great  national   tragedy,- 
there    had    been    no    physical    meeting    with    him.      Yet    por- 
traits of  the  tragedian   as  given   in  the  press  and   in   maga- 
zincii    immediately    following    the    assassination    and    subse- 
(juent.   were   strongly   engraved    on    memory's   scroll.      If   the- 
affirmative    is    permi.'^sible    in.'^tead    of    guess,   the    first    meet- 
ing was   at   Topcka,   Kansas,   some  time  in   the   middle   '80s. 
Passing   tlie   Crawford    restaurant,   then   tlip   leading   provin- 
der  shop  in  the  city,   a  gentleman  was  noticed  occupying  a 
chair  just  outside  and  near  the  open  door,  leaned  back  in  a 
safe  angle  against  the  wall.     The  stranger  was  in   a  rather 
nonchalant  mood,  gently  twirling  a  small  cane  between  the 
thumb  and  forefinger  of  one  hand  and  as  gently  twisting  at 
the    tips    of    his    raven    black    imperial    mustache    with    the 
other.      The    writer    dropped    into    a    chair    nearby,    whereat 
.  the  stranger   released  his   chair   from    the   wall   and   brought 
it  to  a  square  position.     This  stranger  was  in  a  neat-fitting- 
suit   of  black,   coat   of   Prince   Albert   pattern,   and   the   hat 
of  the  Stetson  order,  though  with  a   rim  somewhat  broader 
than   the   usual.     Hir  hair  was  jet   black,   of  silky   texture, 
and   inclined  to  curl  or  wave   at  the  bottom.     On   squaring 
the   chair,   the   stranger   cast   a   hasty   glance    at   his   visitor, 
then  cast  his  eyes  a  trifle  down,  with   a   meditative   expres- 
sicn,    at    tlie    sau'C    time    bringing    tlie    hand    in     which     he 
held  the   cane  to  his   mustache   as  he   gave  the  tips   anothi^r 
grntle  twist.     Then   he  again  leaned  back  against  the  wall. 


96  WANDERINGS  OF  J    WILKES  BOOTH 


and   looking  into    the    upper   blank    recited    a    few   lines   in 
a    truly    dramatic    vein,   though    rather   low.     Cutting   short 
as  if   to   recover  from   inadvertancc,  he   once  more  brought 
his  chair  to  a  square   position.     The   writer   was   impressed 
at   the   strangeness   of   the   stranger,    at   his   dramatic   bear- 
ing and  ventured  a  trifle  familiarity.     Slapping  the  stranger 
on   one  knee,   who   at   first   gave   a   quick   stare   between   re- 
sentment   and   surprise,   but    in    an    instant    assumed    an    at- 
tentive pose.     It  flashed  upon  the  mind   of  the   writer  that 
his   new   and   ephemeral   companion   was   either   a   theatrical 
man   or  a  dramatic  reader.      Acting  upon   this  he   arose   and 
gave    an    inviting    glance    down    at    the    stranger,    who    als« 
arose.      As   a  test  to  surmise,  the  writer  remarked:      "I  be- 
lieve   I   will   take    a    walk    over   to    the    new   theatre."      (But 
recently    erected,    a    block    or    so    west    of    the    Crawford.) 
"The  new  the-a-tre."  the  stranger  remarked,  as  he  slightly 
inclined  his  head  and  peered  up  from  beneath  black  silken 
brows.      Raising   his    countenance    and    with    a    side    glance; 
"then    you    have    two    the-a-tres,    (not    exactly  questioning, 
nor  exactly  in  surprise,  but  in  seeming  effort  to   disguise   a 
knowledge    of    the    fact.)      With    this    he    stepped    to    the 
writer's    side,    slightly     resting     one     foot     as     he    placed    a 
hand    on    one    slioulder,    more    friendly    than    familiar.      "I 
presume  we  shall  meet  again — possibly."      (The  latter  word 
in    a    tone   of    question   half   aside.)      "I   hope   so,"    was   the 
reply.      "I  like  to  meet  people,  and  never  meet  anyone  with- 
out  a   hope    of   meeting   again.     Excuse   proverbial   Yankee 
curiosity  in  asking  j'our  name,   and  I  may  sav,  your  line." 
"Well,"    he    returned,    slightly    turning    as    he    twirled    the 
cane   and   twisted   at   his   mustache   a   moment,   "I   have   pot 
been   bold   enough   to   ask   your   name   nor   your  profession. 
"Campbell,'    was    the    immediate    interpose:    "and    yours?" 
"Let  me  see,"   with   a  trifle  meditative  pause,  then  looking 
his   questioner   straight   in   the   eye,   "how   does   Thomas,    or 
Johnson    strike    you,    with    a   traveling   suit,    for    instance?" 
With   this,   the   stranger  lightly   pressed   the   writer's   shoul- 
der,  and   in   a   manner  that   bordered   on   seeming  regret   at 
parting,   turned    away    and   leisurely   passed    inside   the    res- 
taurant   twirling    his    cane.     While     there     was     so     much 
peculiar  about  the   incident,  the   exact  date   cannot  now  be 
recalled.      A    few    years    after,    while    on     a     Rock     Island 
train    somewhere    between    Pond    Creek    and    Kingfisher,    a 
gentleman    entered    from    another    car    and    seated    himself 
by    the    writer.     There    was    something    in    the    appearance 
of  the   newcomer   whidi    at   once   impressed   "Where   have  I 
seen     that     face     before,"    was     the     first    unuttered    flash. 
There  was  the  black   curving  eyebrows,  the  black  imperial 
mustache,  the  black   flowing  hair,   all   of  which   called  back 
the   incident   at  Topeka;   but   this   man    was   in   gray   clothes 


WANDERINGS  OF  J    WILKES  BOOTH  37 


of  business  cut,  and  a  Scottish  plaid  cap.  At  Enid  one  of 
the  occupants  of  the  seat  just  in  front  got  off,  while  an- 
other man  entered  and  took  the  seat,  placing  a  grip  on 
his  lap,  on  whidj  was  visibly  lettered  "C.  Carlton."  He 
also  carried  a  bundle  of  show  programs  in  which  the  new 
seat-mate  seemed  .specially  interested.  Tapping  the  young 
man  lijrhtly  rn  Ihe  shoulder,  a  program  was  handed  over 
before  he  had  time  to  speak.  This  he  held  up  in  front  of 
him  with  a  sort  of  critical  quiz.  "Do  you  belong  to  the 
profesh?"  was  asked  by  the  young  man,  at  which  the  seat- 
mate  peered  over  the  edge  of  the  program  with  a  staring 
frown.  "The  pro-FESH !"  as  if  it  was  the  term  that 
l^iqued.  "No!"  And  the  seat-mate  hid  his  ire  behind  the 
spread  program  a  moment.  Then  as  if  to  amend  for  in- 
advertent breech,  he  asked:  "Where  do  you  perform?''  The 
last  word  after  a  pause  ,as  if  trying  to  coin  some  word 
commensurate  with  "profesh."  "O-o— let  me  see,"  said  the 
young  man,  scratching  below  and  behind  the  right  ear. 
"We  show  all  over — everywhere,"  with  an  air  of  pomp. 
"•I  mean  your  next  stand."  "Oh,"  and  the  young  man 
referred  to  his  memorandum.  "At  the  El  Reno  theatre." 
"So!  And  they  have  a  the-a-tre  at  that  village,"  with  a^ 
humorous  twinkle.  .At  this  juncture  Kingfisher  statioih 
was  called  and  the  writer  got  off  the  train,  reflecting  on 
the  peculiar  long  "a"  in  theatre  that  called  up  the  Topeka- 
incident.  In  fact  this  long  "a''  like  an  unbidden  tune, 
kept  up   its   intrusion   for   some   time. 

Referring  to  this  incident  on  the  train,  the  writer 
calls  to  mind  that  in  1893  Charles  Carlton,  with  blonde 
hair,  etc.,  put  on  "Nevada  the  Gold  King"  at  the  Kingfisher 
hall  with  a  local  cast,  Miss  Henrietta  Parker  (now  Com- 
den)  in  the  leading  lady  role.  Mr.  Camden,  J.  S.  Ross, 
Dr.  Spangler,  Miss  Mize,  Mina  Admire,  being  among  others, 
of  the  cast,  the  writer  as  "Nevada." 

The  third  meeting  with  the  mysterious  stranger — and 
right  here  it  may  be  well  to  state  that  at  neither  of  these 
meetings  did  the  writer  recognize  the  part.v  referred  to  as 
Booth,  nor  does  he  now  know  that  it  was  him.  Hence  in 
designating  the  party  as  Booth  is  wholly  in  the  presump- 
tive. It  was  at  the  Waukomis  Hornet  office  during  the 
afternoon  of  January  fi,  1903,  when  he  stopped  immediately 
in  front  of  the  door,  planting  one  foot  on  the  entrance  silT 
where  he  paused  seemingly  to  be  recognized  before  enter- 
ing. The  stranger  had  black  hair,  brows  and  mustache 
and  was  dressed  in  a  black  suit,  the  coat  being  Prince 
Albert,  tlie  hat  of  the  Stetson  pattern,  the  entire  showing 
the  ravages  of  wear,  but  dean.  There  was  the  little  cane 
between  thumb  and  finger  going  through  involuntary  twirl- 
ings.     There    was    a    noticeable    furrowing   in    the    features. 


38  WANDERINGS  OF  .1    WITKES  BOOTH 

and   beneath    the    veneerinp   black    a   slijrht    trace    of    gray, 
▼ifiible,  however,  only  on  closest  observation,  and  recallable 
only  through   subsequent  events.      "Well,  come   in   and  look 
out,"    said    the    writer    as    he    noticed    the    stranger,    who 
stepped    inside.     The    wear    of    years    were    such    that    the 
writer  did  not  at  first  identify  the  newcomer  with  any  one 
whom   he   had   ever   met   before;    although    there   were   out- 
lincis  on  memory's  wall   that  read  a  previous  meeting  some- 
where   at    some    time,    but    where?     There    was    a    classical 
bearing,    a    manly    pose    of    gentility    that    stamped    him    as 
no  common  tramp,  and  this  was  decidedly  emphasized  with 
his   first    utterance.     Tipping    his    liat    slightly,    working   the 
little    cane     and     looking-    straight     face-to-face     with     the 
writer,     and     in     a     pleasing     voice     of     culture,     inquired: 
"Have  I  the  pleasure  of  addressing  Mr.   Campbell?"  reach- 
ing his  hand  as  the  cane  became   idle.     "That's  my  name," 
returned   the   writer  as  he   reciprocated   the   gentle  grasp   of 
hands.      The    newcomer    referred    hurriedlv    to    a    memoran- 
dum, then:  "W.  P.  Campbell?"     "W.  P.— that  is  the  name  I 
go   by,    at   least."     At   this   the    stranger   seated    on    a   high 
stool  which  stood  near  the  door,  and  resting  one  foot  on  the 
floor,   gave   the   little   cane   a   succession    of   twirls    and   his 
mustache  as  many  twists,  then  looking  the  writer  square  in 
the    eye,    and    with    seriously     inquisitive     tone:     "Did    you 
ever  know  any   one  to  go  by   a  name  not   really  his   own.'' 
"I   may  have   known   many,   without   knowing   it,"   was   the 
reply.     The  stranger  dismounted  from  the  stool  and  walked 
slowly  to  and  fro  in  a  meditative  way  for  a  moment,  with 
the  now   familiar  cane   and   mustache  feature.     "If  not   too 
busy,"  again  taking  position   on  the  stool,  half  sitting,  with 
one  foot  on  the  floor.     "Always  busy,  never  busy,"   replied 
the    writer,    taking    a    seat    near    the    stool    with     his     feet 
cocked    on   the   desk:     "Fire   away."     Again,   quite   deliber- 
ately climbing  from  the  stool  the  stranger  drew  near,  wit"h 
such  peculiar  expres.einn   on  his  countenance  that  the  writer 
involuntarily    arose   and   squared    himself   face   to   face   with 
}iis    questioner.     The    stranger    stepped    back    a    very    brief 
pace  as  if  to  give  his  gestures  play.    Then  closely  eyeing  as 
if    to    rivet    attention,    and    with    index    finger    as    close    as 
rourtesy     wnrrnnted,     with     dramatic     pantomine:      "Before 
leaving    Fl    Reno — I    came    from    there — I    was    directed    by 
Mr.   Hensley  to  call  on  you,  the  same  by  Mr.  Eyler   (prob- 
ably   Ehler)    ns    T    came    through    Hennessey."      "Very    kind 
in     my     friends,"    the    writer     interposed,    "but    what's    the 
drive ?"     "Exactly,"    as   the   stranger     readjusted     him- 
self   ssquare    face   to    face,    preceding   with    slow    yet    deci- 
sive   index-finger    gestures    and    dramatic    head    accompani- 
ments.    "It  is  a  story,  the — story — of  my  life!''  with  strong 
emphasis   on   the   last  three  words.     "A  story    (pause)    that 


WANDERINGS  OF  J    WILKES  BOOTH  39 


will  startle — that  will  make  the  very  world  set  up  and 
take  notice."  For  a  moment  there  was  a  mutual  eyeing, 
he  seemingly  to  note  the  impression  he  had  made;  on  the 
writer's  part  more  in  a  puzzle  as  to  what  it  all  meant- 
After  a  moment's  suspense,  the  stranger  began  a  to-and-fro 
meditative  pace  with  cane  and  mustache  accompaniment. 
"My  friend,"   said   the   writer,   "from   what   I   have   seen   of 

you "     The  stranger  turned  abruptly,  and  in  a  tone  of 

surprise  suppressed  inquiry:  "You  have  seen  me  before?" 
"I  surely  have."  The  stranger  took  a  half  sitting  posture 
on  the  stool  closely  eyeing  the  writer  and  with  seeming 
unconsciousness  of  it,  slowly  twisting  at  his  mustache. 
"But  just  when  and  under  what  circumstances — didn't  I 
meet  you  in  Topeka  once?"  continued  the  writer,  meeting 
the  starry  gaze  of  the  stranger,  who,  with  a  downward 
glance:  "Possibly,"  then  resuming  his  recent  attitude,  "I 
have — I  think  I  have  been  there."'  The  stranger  had 
descended  from  his  perch  on  the  stool,  and  began  a  medi- 
tative to-and-fro  as  he  replied  without  looking  up:  "I — 
HAVE  been  ther^."  "As  I  said,"  continued  the  writer, 
as  the  stranger  seated  on  one  corner  of  the  desk,  one  foot 
resting  on  the  floor  as  he  side-faced  to  the  writer.  "If 
you  will  permit  me,"  once  more  continued  the  writer, 
"from  what  I  have  seen  of  you,  and  I  need  not  go  back 
of  this  meeting,  right  here,  and  from  yrnr  manp^r,  yrur 
bearing  and  language — everything,  I  should  judge  you 
capable  of  writing  your  own  story."  "Possibly — probably — 
that  is  so,"  returned  the  stranger  as  he  stepped  from  the 
desk  and  leaned  back  with  both  hands  resting  on  the 
stool  behind  him.  "But  it  wouldn't  be  me,"  quickly  shift- 
ing the  drift  and  again  assuming  the  former  position  on 
the  desk  corner.  "How  would  it  seem  to  you  to  be  your- 
self, and  yet  not  you?  No  matter  what  you  write,  or  say, 
or  do,  whatever  your  achievements,  how  high  your  ambi- 
tion  may   reach — it    is    not    you "     Getting    from     the 

desk,  and  facing  the  writer,  with  strong  index-finger,  "NOT 
YOU!"  Turning  with  the  last  words  and  slowly  pacing, 
in  a  fairly  pathetic  undertone,  semi-solus:  "Not  me."  In 
a  sort  of  rambling  way  that  comported  with  his  mind, 
evidently,  the  stranger  alternated  with  the  stool  position, 
and  uneasily  to-and-froing,  cane  and  mustache  fingering, 
and  talking  in  a  fragmentary  way  as  bits  of  his  story  were 
brought  out,  mixed  with  inquiries  seemingly  to  test  the 
writer's  familiarity  with  Washington  life,  and  the  Potomac 
country. 

Classing  the  stranger  as  more  than  an  ordinary  man — 
dramatic  reader  past  the  meridian  of  use;  or  a  one-time 
knight  of  the  footlights,  now  too  tedious  to  be  entertaining, 
yet    too    noble    for    slight,    the    writer    made    casual    notes 


40  WANDERINGS  OF  J    WII  KES  BOOTH 

merely  cut  of  respect,  being  frequently  admonished  with: 
"Now,  just  a  minute,  I'm  not  quite  ready  for  that." 
Finally  I  asked  the  stranger's  name.  With  an  intimation 
that  more  about  him  would  be  pleasing.  "I  advertise  as 
a  painter."     ".Scenic?"     "No — well,  I  guess  I  could  paint  a 

scene — with,    a    brush,    but "    and    he    started    as    if    to 

leave.     "There's   a    joh   in    this   town,   if   you   care   for   one. 

A   brand    new   building "     Without   waiting   for   further 

details,  th?  stranger  replied,  "Thanks,  my  friend;  however, 
I  wi'l  not  rppnse  lonkinnr  over  your  new  structure."  We 
started.  When  about  midway  of  the  street,  Scott's  opera 
hcjise  was  pointed  out,  with  the  remark:  "You  see,  this 
little  town  is  on  the  may — even  has  a  theatre  of  her  own. 
"Rather  ssnall  place  for  a  the-a-tre."  Here  the  stress  on 
the  "a"  was  as  had  been  the  case  on  two  other  occasions. 

"The  prrpiietor  wants  a  set  of  scenery,  and "     "Many — 

ruiiierous  tlianks,"  came  as  an  eniphatic  interpose,  as  he 
placed  rne  hand  on  tlie  writer's  sh  ulder — the  same  thrill- 
ing touch  as  that  in  the  Trpeka  incident.  "I  would  not 
Ih'nk  f  r  a  nni'irnt  rf  such  n  jrh;  the  the-a-tre  has  all 
the  reverse  rf  charms  for  me."  To  avoid  further  embar- 
la.ssing  th?  stranger,  the  writer  remarked  that  the  weather 
vas  quite  rn.)!\yable  f  )r  January.  "Enjoyable  no  doubt  to 
Ihrsc  capable  of  cnjrymcnt,"  returned  the  stranger.  Just 
thfn  on  fncing  cast  the  evening  sun  cast  long  shadows  in 
front.  "Tlie  davs  are  growing  ^hoitcr,"  said  the  writer  as 
h"  rlancrd  at  tlif'  shadows.  "Yes,  and  as  the  days  grow 
th'irter,  the  shadows  lengthen."  said  the  stranger  as  he 
swiped  al^ng  the  shadows  with  his  cane.  "Did  you  ever 
chase  a  shadow?"  casually  enquired  the  writer.  After  -a 
moment's  pause  in  seeming  reflection  the  stranger  replied 
as  a  slight  sigh  escaped:  "They  have  chased  me — are  ever 
chnsing  me."  Slf^w  in  semi-solus:  "Shadows  of  the  past." 
Then  with  a  sudden  shift  as  if  to  recover:  "Shadows  of  the 
past  wouldn't  be  a  bad  title  for — say — a  story,  eh?"  To 
vhich  the  writer  remarked  in  half  query:  "Why  not  'Lights 
and  Shadows?'"  The  sti anger  prodded  with  his  cane  a 
T^mment,  then  in  drawn  words  and  serious  tone:  "Suppose 
there  were  no  lisrhts?"  To  which:  "With^^ut  lichts  th^re 
'would  be  no  shadows — haven't  you  ever  had  lip'li'^s  flit 
mthwart  your  path?"  The  stranger  gave  a  nervous  twirl  of 
the  cane  and  a  twist  at  his  mustache:  "Verv  seldom  and 
far  between,  one — to  say  how  long  ago  would  be  to  give 
away  my  age.  The  other — no  matter.  I>ike  tho  one  of 
boyhood  days,  it  was  fairly  dazzling,  but  only  a  flicker,  a 
transitory  beam  that  lured  a  moment  with  promis";  then — 
merged   with   the   shadows." 

On  returning  to  the  office  before  entering,  the  straneer 
made  as  if  to  leave,  but  was  persuaded  not  to  be  in  a  rush. 


WANDERINGS  OF  J    WILKES  BOOTH  41 

"Oh,  no,"  he  casually  returned,  he  assuming  a  pose  against 
the  stool  while  the  writer  resumed  a  seat  at  the  desk  and 
began  indifferently  fumbling  at  a  bunch  of  pencilings.  Just 
then  as  the  writer  lifted  his  hand  a  sudden  whiff  of 
wind  blew  a  few  sheets  of  manuscript  in  pencil  from  the 
desk  to  the  floor.  The  stranger  was  quick  to  arrest  the 
flying  pages,  and  handing  them  over  remarked:  "Brain,  I 
presume,  of —  black  lead."  •  Receiving  the  pages  with  due 
thanks:  "No — simply  .jottings  of  little  thoughts  as  they 
come  up  to  file  away,"  handing  the  stranger  a  few  pages 
which  he  read  to  himself  with  growing  interest  as  he 
pantomimed.  "You,  too,  must  have  bowed  at  the  shrine 
where  beauty  awakens  love.  I  think  I  discover  elements  of 
histrionic  flights.  Were  you  ever*  on  the  stage?"  He  was 
informed  to  the  contrary  except  in  an  amateur  way.  Just 
then  the  writer  arose  and  began  rubbing  and  shaking  his 
right  leg  to  stimulate  ciiculation.  "Rheumatic?"  inquired 
the  stranger.  "No — merely  an  uneas>'  feeling  caused  by  a 
rupture  sustained  during  the  rebellion."  "Ah,  I  see."  Then 
"I  notice  it  is  the  right  limb,"  as  he  advanced  his  left 
foot  and  lifted  the  pants  leg  an  inch  or  so  as  if  to  indicate 
that  he,  too,  wore  a  scar. 

As  if  quoting:  "Ah,  what  have  we  here?"  Holding 
the  penclings  up  before  him:  "Never  ask  for  a  kiss,  and 
you'll  never  be  refused  one."  Glancing  at  the  writer: 
"And  never  get  one."  To  which  the  writer  replied:  "That 
will  be  up  to  you."  After  a  moment  in  seeming  attempt 
to  parry  words:  "But  as  purchased  soueeze  of  the  hand 
never  reaches  beyond  the  wrist,  so  purchased  kisses  die  on 
the  lips."  The  writer  taking  a  side-glance  at  the  stranger: 
"Who  said  anything  about  purchasing?  Just  take  it.  Stol- 
en kisses  are  sweetest,  any  way."  Another  moment  in  a 
parry  study:  "But  it  is  only  the  mutual  kiss  of  love  that 
binds  heart  to  heart."  Then  casually  giving  his  mustache 
a  twist  and  his  cane  a  twirl  as  he  took  a  pace  or  two. 
"However,  you  have  taught  me  a  lesson.  But,  I  fear  me, 
my  friend,  the  lesson  comes  too  late."  Half  in  solus:  "If 
I  had  only  thought  of  that  back  there — not  so  very  long 
ago."  Long  breath  as  he  twirls  cane.  "What  might  have 
been."  Once  more  he  scanned  the  pencilings  until  his  eyes 
restfd  on  something  which  seemingly  interested  him,  if  not 
giving  worry.  After  a  careful  scanning:  "Ev^ery  Caesar 
has  his  Brutus."  Turning  to  the  writer  and  somewhat 
nervously  tapping  the  pencilings  with  fore-finger:  "Why 
— why'  did  you  write  that?"  knitting  his  brows.  Then  as 
if  to  cover  any  lapse:  "But  not  every  Caesar  hath  his 
Anthony  to  bury  him  and — to  praise  him  with  covet  cen- 
sure." At  this  point  the  stranger  seems  to  have  first 
noticed  a  vased  calla  recently  presented  by  a  friend:     "You 


42  WANDERINGS  OF  J.  WILKES  BOOTH 

seem  to  be  somewhat  esthetic  as  well  as — er — romantic. 
With  your  permission,"  as  he  takes  the  vase  from  the  top 
of  the  desk  and  gently  strokes  the  bloom:  "Ah,"  holding 
up  a  tribute  to  the  calla  written  on  a  card  he  first  reads  a 
few  lines,  with  pantomimes,  then  seemingly  involuntarily 
reads  audibly: 

"O,   Calla — Love's  emblematic  flower, 

Fair  blush   on  white,  a  brief   alluring  dower. 

And  yet  while  beauty  lingers  on  thy  bloom. 

How  sweet,  how  delicious  thy  perfume, 

O,  Calla!     Transient  as  thy  folds  so  fair, 

Is  love  that   lures,   then   seals   us   in   despair! 

A  moment  holding  in   thy  bewitching  spell, 

Like  love  that  halts  ,then  bids  abrupt  farewell. 

O,  Calla,  frail — how  soon  thy  beauties  fade; 

And   fall  like   hether-down   from   summer   glade! 

Thy   charms   though   brief — a   momentary   lure. 

And   yet  how   .sweet   the   moments   they   endure! 

Like  love  that  halts,  then  bids  abrupt  farewell. 

Still  memory  holds  on  lips  thy  chrismed  kiss." 

The  writer  never  thought  much  of  the  tribute,  but  as 
rendered  by  this  stranger  it  seemed  great.  There  was  em- 
phasis, in  gesture  and  tone  the  most  highly  eloquent  and 
dramatic  of  anything  the  writer  was  ever  privileged  to 
hear  or  observe.  Possibly  to  some  extent  from  the  fact  it 
touched  that  vain  spot  all  possess  to  some  degree. 

On   returning  the  pencilings   the   stranger   stood   a  mo- 
ment   as   if   to    mark    any   impression    his   "eloquence"   may 
have  made,  asked  the   time   of  day.     On   being  cited  to  an 
office  clock,  Hoyt's  "Hole  in  the  Ground"  was  brought  into 
requisition   with   a  cute  twinkle:     "Mr.   agent,  is  your  clock 
right?"     Again  as  if  to  note  impressions.     "I  see  you  have 
changed  garments  under  the  spout — "  said  the  writer,  "and 
as  usual,  got  soaked."     With  this  he  remarked  that  perhaps 
it     was     so     late     the     story     might       be     postponed     and 
inquired      if      the      writer      would      be      in      Enid      soon. 
On    being    informed    that    he    often     went    there:     "Come 
Saturday   and   we   can   go   more   into   details."     "All   right," 
replied  the  writer,  scarcely  expecting  to  do  so.     "You  can 
locate  me  by  inquiry  at  the  Watrus  Drug  Store — I  am  not 
much   on   the   street."     At  this,  he  took  the  writer  warmly 
by  both  hands,  and  looking  him  straight  in  the  eye  in  the 
manner  that  was  a  cross  between  affection,  regret  at  part- 
ing, and  a  sounding  of  thoughts.     "You  need  not  walk,"  said 
the    writer,    reaching   into   his  pockets   to    bring   forth    car 
fare.     "No  offense,  I  assure  you,  and  I  accept  your  kindly 
suggestion    for    the    deed,    but    I    have    plenty    of    funds — 
enough,  at  least,  and  to  pay  you  well  for  what  I  am  sure 
you    will    undertake    to    do.     There     are    so    many    things 


WANDERINGS  OF  J    WILKES  BOOTH  43 


money  cannot  buy,"  as  he  gave  a  warm  grasp  of  hands; 
"such  as  that  friendship  I  am  more  than  persuaded  I  shall 
find  in  you."  Still  holding  hands,  but  turning  as  if 
choiring  back  some  bitter  emotion — "Good-bye."  Then 
facing  the  writer,  and  with  a  firm  hand-grasp,  in  a  tone 
of  confidence:  "You  are  a  man;  you  have  enjoyed  the  best 
in  life,  yet  tasted  of  its  bitterest  dregs — no — not  the  bitter- 
est— 'Only  perhaps  that  slight  potion  all  men  taste.  A 
man — I  may  trust  you  with — but  there  has  been  no  secret — 
as  yet  revealed.  Remember  Saturday;  and  once  again- 
good — no;  au  revoir."  After  a  warm  graisp,  he  let  go 
hands,  and  headed  for  the  station. 


Before  closing  the  chapter  one  other  incident  is  brought 
up.  It  was  only  a  week  or  so  since  that  Col.  James  DufiFey, 
who  was  a  police  official  at  El  Reno,  when  George  stopped 
there,  but  who  is  now  employed  at  the  state  capitol,  ex- 
hibited a  photograph  to  the  Historia  scribe  with  the 
remark:  "Gaze  on  that  and  tell  me  if  you  ever  saw  it 
before" — this  viithout  the  least  hint  as  to  who  it  was.  "I 
surely  have,"  replied  the  writer  as  he  glanced  at  the  face," 
Col.  DuflFy  still  holding  the  photo  in  his  hand.  "That  is 
the  man  who  called  on  me  at  Waukomis  in  January,  1903, 
and  who  a  week  later  committed  suicide  under  the  name 
of  David  E.  George— J.  Wilkes  Booth."  "You  are  mis- 
taken," said  Col.  Duffy,  assuming  a  super-positive  atti- 
tude. "John  Wilkes  Booth  was  killed  at  the  Garrett 
home  in  Virginia,  April  25,  1866,  by  one  Boston  Corbitt. 
I  am  sure  of  this  because  David  E.  George,  while  in  a 
'spiritually'  talkative  mood  told  me  so  himself — in  El  Reno 
— only  a  short  time  l)efore  committing  suicide.  George 
said  he  knew  J.  Wilkes  Booth  was  dead,  'because,' 
said  he  in  a  dramatic  way,  'the  next  day  after  he  was 
killed,  the  body  was  taken  down  the  river  to  a  lone  island 
twenty-seven  miles  from  Washington  and  secretly  buried 
there.'"  David  E.  George  might  have  added  that '"I  know- 
that  John  Wilkes  Booth  is  dead,  because  the  body  was 
taken  to  Washington  City  and  secretly  buried  in  a  room 
in  front  of  the  navy  building  near  the  old  jail,  and  a  piece 
of  artillery  drawn  over  the  place  to  obliterate  it.  '  Further 
because  the  body  was  taken  down  tihe  Potomac  ten  miles 
from  Washington,  and  weighted  with  stones  and  sunk. 
Also,  because  the  body  was  taken  to  a  secluded  spot  be- 
tween the  Garrett  farm  and  the  Potomac  and  placed  in 
a  pit  and  consumed  by  quick  lime;  because  the  body  wa.s 
taken  to  Washington  City  and  secretly  buried  in  the  yard 
of  the  old  penitentiary,  from  whence  it  was  subsequently 
exhumed  and  given  to  the  Booth  family  and  buried  in 
Green  Mount  Cemetery,  Baltimore,  where  a  marble  marks 


44  WANDERINGS  OF  J.  WILKES  BOOTH 

;  the  head  of  the  mound  (unnamed,  however.)  I  know  that 
John  Wilkes  Booth  is  dead  because  the  doorkeeper  at 
Ford's  theatre,  who  was  an  intimatet  of  Booth's  and  who 
assisted  in  the  Green  Mount  ceremonies,  declared  it  wag 
NOT  the  body  of  J.  Wilkes  Booth.  Ais  still  more  in- 
vincible proof  that  J.  Wilkes  Booth  was  the  man  killed 
at  the  Garrett  home  the  fa<;t  may  be  cited  that  the 
j^overnment,  so  secure  in  its  convictions  decided  not 
to  submit  the  body  for  identification;  nor  was  a  single 
cent  of  the  va.st  reward  ever  paid.  Further — the  body 
was  quick-limed,  drowned,  buried — variously  at  various 
places  and  curiously  enough  by  different  agencies  at  one 
and  the  same  time;  so  let  it  go  at  that.  He  it  dead,  dead, 
dead!  numerously  dead."  After  quoting  "George,"  Col. 
Duffy  handed  the  photo  over,  with:  "Now  look  at  the 
back  of  the  card."  On  the  back  was  found  inscribed  the 
names,  "J.  Wilkes  Booth,"  taken  at  a  spiritual  seance  in 
New  York,  1894,  by  the  mother  of  the  Du Fonts,  famous 
the  world  over  as  powder  manufacturers. 

A  friend  of  Historia  states  that  durinj?  a  conversation 
only  a  few  days  ago,  Mrs.  Anstein  of  El  Reno,  at  whose 
hotel  Booth  (under  name  of  George)  stopped  for  many 
months,  dechired  her  belief  that  George  and  Booth  were 
the  same.  She  .«aid  she  was  quite  well  acquainted  with 
him,  and  recalls  many  things  which  now  more  than  at  the 
time,  convince  her.  At  one  time,  she  says,  when  he  was 
slightly  under  the  influence  of  liquor,  some  one  gravely 
offended  him,  at  which  the  offender  was  dramatically  in- 
vited to  pass  on  or  be  passed  on,  which  he  reluctantly 
did,  and  passed  on,  muttering  an  implied  or  construed 
threat.  "That  man  has  no  business  fooling  with  me,"  said 
^he  irate  Booth  (or  George),  turning  to  Mrs.  Anstein, 
side-gesturing  toward  the  retreating  offender.  "He  don't 
know  who  he  is  fooling  with — I  killed  a  thousand  times 
better  man  than  him — he  mustn't  fool  with  me."  Then  calm- 
ing. Booth  said  to  Mrs.  Anstein  in  a  confidential  tone: 
"Can  you  keep  a  secret?"  At  which  Mrs.  Anstein  replied 
in  a  careless  way,  "Did  you  ever  know  a  woman  to  keep 
a  secret?"  Booth  bit  at  his  under  lip  as  he  turned  away. 
"I  sincerely  believe  George,  as  we  knew  him.  had  at  that 
moment  in  mind  telling  me  his  secret,"  said  Mrs.  Anstein. 
The  fourth  and  last  time  the  writer  saw  Booth  was  at 
Enid,  at  Pennyman's  northeast  corner  of  the  public  square. 
He  was  standing  with  his  back  to  the  inner  wall,  his  head 
sligh-tly  bent  forward,   and   his  voice   once   so   resonant   with 

f  charming  melody,  gave  out  no  sound..  Gray  was  dusting 
through   the  brows,  the   mustache   and  long  wavy  hair,  the 

■  artificial  dyes  used  in  keeping  them  in  raven  hue  gradu- 
ally   fading    away.     The   starry   lustre    of    once    captivating 


WAXDERINGS  OF  J    WILKES  BOOTH  45 

ryes  was  sealed  under  closed  lids.  The  hands  were  white 
and  sinewy,  folded  listless  across  the  breast.  The  face  was 
a  trifle  swollen,  over  it  a  faint  pallor  of  wraith,  and  yet 
a  delicate  smile  of  ineffable  sweetness  as  one  in  pleasant 
dreams.  It  was  death.  That  voice  which  once  so  thrilled 
and  charmed,  gesturing  with  eloquence  fairly  sublime,  and 
held  captives  in  its  miraculous  power,  whether  in  Taming 
the  Shrew,  or  in  soliloquies  over  the  browless  Yorick,  ray 
kingdom  for  a  horse,  or  over  his  Desdemonia  smothered 
in  a  pillow  of  Jealous  -rage.  Never  again;  forever  hushed. 
And  as  Undertaken  Pennyman  closed  the  hinged  lid  over 
the  ashy  face,  the  old  thought  came— "Verily  the  way  of 
the  transgresser  is  hard."  One  so  young,  so  ripe  in  beau- 
teous treasure,  the  world  in  readiness  to  prone  before  his 
mild  sweet  will,  backed  by  ancestral  glory  the  future  un- 
folding a  promise  of  kindly  worth  and  benefaction.  But 
he  loved  his  southland  too  well  and  not  wisely.  At  this 
phychic  time  of  dreadful  consequence,  "a  bloom  doomed  in 
the  budding,"  by  one  impetous  rash  act,  ill-judged  and 
bound  in  a  spirit  of  revenge,  or  misconceived  duty,  matters 
not.  Condemned  a  wanderer,  to  face  an  unforgiving  world, 
shunning  familiar  haunts  and  loved  people,  under  tht 
ban  of  remorse,  in  the  shadow  of  dread  and  mortal  fear. 
"Myself,  and  yet — another!"  A  pent-up  life  of  hateful 
suspense,  longing  for  some  ear  to  listen  to  his  story  which 
he  dares  not  lisp  lest  treachery  lurk  in  the  wake  of  false 
friendship;  but  the  time  of  dissolution  nears.  On  a  couch 
of  excruciable  pain,  in  last  mortal  anguish,  struggling  with 
remorse,  eternity  in  view,  the  gates  ajar,  as  entering  the 
dark  arcanum  where  no  mortal  poinard  may  ever  pierce — 
he  dares.  But  the  story,  although  there  is  still  material 
for  a  large  volume,  is  already  too  long,  much  more  so 
than  was  intended.  Besides,  it  seems  needless  to  tamper 
further  with  public  patience  in  recital  of  the  confessions 
made  in  the  cypress  shades.  The  revelation  to  Mrs.  (Rev.) 
Harper,  to  Mrs.  Simmons,  to  Mrs.  Bears,  and  others  of 
his  most  intimate  and  trusted  acquaintances.  These  with 
affidavits  may  be  found  in  El  Reno,  Enid  and  outside 
publication  of  date  of  the  final  climax,  in  January,  1903. 
Those  who  followed  the  event  will  readily  recall  these 
things.  Hence,  let  the  gates  close  behind  the  departed 
soul — forever  shut  out  from  the  mortal  whirl;  forever  to 
wander  in  mystery  land  where  spirits  reft  of  dissoluble 
mould  revel  in  cypress  bowers  in  blissful  harmony  with 
sweet-tuned  choristers,  or  tread  to  sounds  discordant  among 
spectral  forms  ever  in  the  shadow  of  disconsolate  gloom. 


+6.  \yAXDP:RIXGS  OF  .1    WII.KF'.S  BOOTH 

ENDING  OF  THE  TRAIL 

According  to  promise  the  writer  visited  Enid  the  follow- 
ing Saturday  and  made  inquiry  at  the  Watrus  Drug  Store 
:fOr  Mr.  George,  but  he  had  not  shown  up  as  yet,  it  being 
•  then  near  time  for  the  north-bound  train.  The  writer,  not 
deeming  the  matter  of  immediate  importance  told  Mr. 
Watrus  he  would  be  back  the  next  Saturday;  but  before 
that  day  came,  George  had  passed  beyond  the  pale  of  inter- 
A'iews.  The  sad  sequel  will  be  approached  through  refer- 
ence to  the  story  of  Booth's  visit  at  Waukorais  as  published 
in  Hlstoria  of  October  issue,  1919,  giving  a  brief 
account  of  the  suicide  of  John  Wilkes  Booth  under  the 
assumed  name  of  David  E.  George,  at  Enid,  January  12, 
1903.  The  purpose  was  not  to  go  into  details  of  the  trag- 
edy of  1865 — merely  a  brief  of  Booth's  itinerary  in  Okla- 
homa. But  the  edition  was  soon  exhausted  with  so  many 
requests  for  extra  copies  coming  from  every  quarter  of  the 
known  world  that  it  was  decided  to  reproduce  the 
brief  with  such  additions  and  preludes  gathered  from  stray 
notes  taken  at  the  time  of  Booth's  visit  at  Waukomis,  which 
have  since  been  found,  and  from  refreshed  memories  of 
what  took  place  during  the  visit.  Also  from  the  stray 
pages  sent  by  an  Enid  friend  who  wrote  that  they  were 
from  a  book  published  by  one  Finis  L.  Bates,  of  Memphis, 
Tennessee,  soon  after  the  suicide  at  Enid.  It  appears  that 
nn  rend'ng  telegrams  announcing  the  suicide  and  the  mys- 
tery in  which  it  was  wrapped,  Mr.  Bates  came  to  Enid  to 
find  out  if  it  was  an  old  Texas  friend  whom  he  had  known 
at  Glen  Rose  Mills  and  at  Granberry,  as  John  St.  Helen 
during  tlie  .'seventies,  and  bringing  with  him  a  tintype  of 
his  friend  tnken  by  a  traveling  pliotographer  at  Glen  Rose 
Mills  in  1878.  On  comparing  the  tintype  with  the  em- 
balmed George  there  was  no  dnubt  whatever  that  the 
cadavar  was  that  of  John  St.  Helen.  Besides  what  is 
gathered  from  the  stray  notes  and  recalled  from  incid^ents 
of  the  booth  visit  at  Waukomis,  Historia  takes  more  or  less 
license  with  the  stray  leaves  sent  from  Enid,  especially 
portions  in  which  the  confession  made  by  St.  Helen  to  Mr. 
Bates  at  Granberry  in  1878  when  Booth,  or  St.  Helen  had 
given  up  to  die.  Death-bed  confession  to  Mrs.  Rev.  Harper 
of  El  Reno  in  1902,  and  letter  from  Gen.  Dana,  Gen.  Lew 
Wallace,  and  various  other  persons  throughout  the  country. 

Among  otlier  papers  found  on  George  one  was  in  his 
bosom  requesting  that  Finis  I>.  Bates  of  Memphis,  Tenn.,  be 
telegraphed  to  coiwe  immediately  and  identifj'  the  body  as 
that  of  John  Wilkes  Booth.  (Letter  lost).  Arriving  at 
Enid  he  met  undertaker  Pennyman,  and  on  showing  him 
a  tintype  of  Booth  taken  at  Glen  Rose  Mills  in  1877  Mr. 
Pennyman  was  overwhelmed,  fairly  dumfounded.     "We  need 


WANDERINGS  OF  J    WILKES  BOOTH  47 


no  picture  to  identify  this  man  in  your  presence.  He  is 
the  man."  Bates  was  then  given  a  view  of  the  embalmed 
cadavar,  and  although  he  had  not  seen  his  client  St.  Helen 
for  several  years  he  at  once  recognized  it  as  his  old  Texas 
friend,  to  whom  the  confession  was  made.  On  examination 
of  the  body  every  distinguishing  mark  of  Booth  was  found 
—the  embrasure  where  the  shin  had  been  fractured,  the 
stiff  and  curved  forefinger  in  which  Booth  invariably  car- 
ried n  small  rattan  cane  to  cover  the  defect;  the  slight  scar 
and  droop  of  one  eye  brow.  On  opening  the  trunk  were 
found  wigs,  paints,  cosmetics,  and  other  theatrical  trap- 
pings. The  hair  and  mustache  had  evidently  been  kept 
well  dyed,  for  after  death  they  began  gradually  to  crawl 
out  from  under  the  dye,  giving  the  hair  and  the  mustache 
a   steel   gray  hue. 

Although  Mrs.  Harper's  statement  is  quite  »:-ng,  but 
it  is  so  interesting  and  pointed  that  it  is  given  at  length — 
that  is  her  first  statement,  her  second  simply  corroborating. 

"Mr.  George,  if  thai:  was  his  name,  resided  in  the 
Territory  for  a  number  of  years,  and  always  seemed  well 
supplied  with  money,  the  source  no  one  knew  except  him- 
self. This  money  came  in  regular  remittances.  My  ac- 
quaintance with  him  led  me  to  believe  he  was  a  different 
person  from  what  he  represented  himself — David  E.  George, 
the  painter.  He  was  eccentric  and  although  claiming  to  be 
a  house- painter,  he  did  no  work.  (Painted  at  one  house, 
})ut  made  a  very  mess  of  it).  He  was  possessed  of  the 
highest  degree  of  intelligence,  always  maintained  the  bear- 
ing of  a  gentleman  of  culture  and  refinement;  in  conversa- 
tion was  fluent,  polished  and  captivating,  discussing  subjects 
of  the  greatest  moment  with  familiarity  and  ease.  He  had 
few  ^Lssociates  and  was  gloomy  except  he  would  brighten  up 
occasionally,  sing  snatches  of  stage  songs  and  repeat  Shakes- 
peare in  an  admirable  manner.  Frequently  answered  ques- 
tions by  quoting  from  some  great  author.  At  one  time  the 
young  people  of  El  Reno  put  on  a  play,  and  one  of  the 
cast  being  ill,  Mr.  George  filled  the  place  to  the  admiration 
and  entertainment  of  all  present.  When  surprise  was  ex- 
pressed at  his  superb  interpretation  on  the  stage  he  replied 
that  he  had  taken  some  part  in  drama  when  a  young  man. 
He  told  different  stories  regarding  his  people.  One  time  he 
said  his  father  was  a  doctor  and  that  he  and  a  brother 
were  the  only  children:  then  his  mother  had  married  again 
and  had  three  children  (half  brothers  to  him)  living  in  the 
Indian  Territory.  Then  again  he  seemed  lonely  and  de- 
clared that  he  had  no  relatives  in  the  world.  He  was  not 
only  mysterious,  but  erratic,  quick-tempered  and  excitable 
at  times.     He  said  he  was  never  married.     He  seemed  con- 


48 WANDERINGS  OF  J.  WILKES  BOOTH 

stantly  under  a  cloud  as  though  something  in  the  past  was 
pressing  him.  Seemed  pleased  to  have  people  understand 
he  was  in  trouble  and  appreciated  sympathy.  He  remained 
with  the  Simmons  family  three  months  and  treated  every 
one  with  greatest  kindness  and  consideration.  Never  do  I 
remember  his  referring  to  the  history  of  his  life  or  that  he 
was  other  than  David  E.  George  until  the  time  he  thought 
he  was  going  to  die — about  the  middle  of  April,  1902.  He 
had  gone  up  town,  returning  soon  after  where  he  entered 
the  room  where  Mrs.  Simmons,  Mrs.  Beers  and  myself 
were  seated.  He  made  some  casual  remark  about  the  fine 
weather  for  the  time  of  year  then  went  to  his  room.  In  the 
course  of  about  fifteen  ?iinutes  he  called  for  us  and  said: 

"I  feel  as  though  I  were  going  to  be  very  sick,"  and 
asked  me  to  get  a  mirror.  For  some  time  as  he  lay  on  the 
bed  he  gazed  at  himself  in  the  glass.  Mrs.  Beers  said  she 
could  see  the  pupils  of  his  eyes  dilate  and  believed  he  had 
taken  morphine.  Being  uneasy,  I  got  him  a  cup  of  coffee 
and  insisted  until  he  drank  it,  but  when  I  mentioned  sending 
for  a  doctor  he  raised  himself  up  in  a  dramatic  and  peculiar 
manner  and  voice  while  holding  the  mirror  before  him: 
"Stay,  woman,  stay !  This  messenger  of  death  is  my  guest, 
and  I  desire  to  see  the  curtain  of  death  fall  upon  the  last 
tragic  act  of  mine."  With  a  passionate  utterance  that 
brought  tears  to  our  eyes.  As  I  turned  to  hide  my  emotion 
be  called  to  me  stating  that  he  had  something  to  tell  me. 
"I  am  going  to  die  in  a  few  minutes,  and  I  don't  believe 
you  would  do  anything  to  injure  me.  Did  it  ever  occur  to 
you  that  I  am  anything  but  an  ordinary  painter?  I  killed 
the  best  man  that  ever  lived."  I  asked  him  who  it  was  and 
he  answered:  ".Abraham  Lincoln."  I  could  not  believe  it, 
simply  thinking  he  was  nut  of  his  head  and  asked:  "Who 
was  .\braham  Lincoln?"  "Is  it  possible  you  are  so  ignorant 
as  not  to  know?"  he  asked.  Then  took  a  pencil  and  paper 
and  wrote  in  a  peculiar  but  legible  hand  the  name,  "Abra- 
ham   Lincoln." 

"Don't  doubt  it,"  he  said,  "I  am  John  Winces  Booth, 
I  am  dying  now.  I  feel  cold  as  if  death's  icy  hand  had  me 
in  its  clutch  closing  my  life  as  a  forfeit  for  my  deed." 

He  told  me  he  was  well  off;  and  seemed  to  be  perfectly 
rational:  knew  me  and  where  he  was,  and  I  really  thought 
in  fact  he  was  dying,  vhen  he  exacted  a  pledge  that  I 
would  kee]i  his  secret  until  he  was  dead, — adding  that  if 
any  one  should  find  out  now  that  he  was  John  Wilkes 
Booth  they  would  take  him  out  and  hang  him,  and  the 
people  who  loved  him  so  well  would  despise  him.  He  told 
me  that  people  in  official  life  hated  Lincoln  and  were  impli- 
cated in  bis  assassination.  He  said  the  haunt  of  being  de- 
tected constantly  preyed   on  him   and   was  something  awful 


WANDERINGS  OF  J    WILKES  BOOTH  49 

and  that  his  life  was  miserable.  He  said  that  Mrs.  Surratt 
was  innocent  and  the  thought  that  he  was  responsible  for 
her  death  as  well  as  that  of  others  stalked  ever  before  him 
like  ghosts  that  would  not  down.  He  said  he  was  devoted 
to  acting  but  !vid  to  give  it  up  because  of  his  rash  deed, 
and  the  thought  that  he  had  to  run  away  from  the  stage 
when  he  loved  the  life  of  acting  so  well,  made  him  restless 
and  ill-tempered.  He  said  he  had  plenty  of  money  but  had 
to  play  the  roll  of  a  workman  to  keep  his  mind  occupied. 

In  the  meantime  Doctor  Arnold  arrived  and  as  a  result 
of  his  skillful  treatment  the  patient  recovered.  After  this 
he  was  very  solicitious  for  weeks  and  questioned  me  as  to 
what  he  had  told  when  sick  unto  death.  I  answered  that' 
he  had  told  me  nothing  of  importance,  but  he  seemed  to 
know  better.  One  day  while  I  was  looking  at  a  picture  of 
Lincoln  he  'asked  the  reason  to  which  I  replied  that  I 
always  admired  Lincoln. 

"Is  that  the  only  reason  you  have  for  looking  at  it?" 
he  asked,  regarding  me  with  a  fierce  look.  As  a  peculiar 
expression  came  over  his  face,  his  eyes  flashed  and  he  turned 
pale  ard   walked   away. 

"One  peculiar  feature  of  Mr.  George,  or  Booth,  was 
that  one  eye  brow  was  somewhat  higher  than  the  other. 
I  have  noticed  him  limp  slightly,  but  he  said  it  was  rheu- 
matism. That  the  man  had  a  past,  we  all  knew,  but  what 
his  secret  was  remains  unknown  except  in  so  far  as  he  may 
have  told  be  truthfully." 

On  the  evening  of  Jaruary  13  I  was  startled  and 
surprised  to  read  in  the  Enid  News  of  the  suicide  of  David 
E.  Georne  of  El  Reno,  with  whom  I  first  became  acquainted 
in  March,  1900,  in  El  Reno  at  the  home  of  Mr.  Simmons. 
Mr.  Harper  went  down  in  the  morning  of  the  14th  and 
recognized  him  and  told  the  embalmers  of  a  confession 
made  by  David  E.  George  to  myself.  I  went  to  the  morgue 
with  Mr.  Harper  on  the  15th  and  recocnized  the  corpse  of 
David  E.  George  as  the  man  who  had  confessed  to  me  in 
El  Reno  that  he  was  John  Wilkes  Booth,  and  as  brevity  has 
been  enjoined  on  me  I  will  simply  re-affirm  my  former 
statements  made  in  detnil  by  David  E.  George  to  me  at 
El  Reno,  about  the  middle  of  April.  1900.  Signed  by  Mrs. 
R.   G.   Harper  before   A.   A.   Stratford,  notary  public.' 

LAST  WILL  AND  TESTAMENT 

The  suicide  made  three  wills  under  the  name  of  David 
E.  George.  The  first  of  these  was  executed  at  El  Reno 
June  17,  1902,  in  which  he  hrqueaths  "To  my  friend  .\nna 
K.  Smith,  of  El  Reno,  Oklahoma,  "all  my  property,  both 
real  and  personal,  of  whatever  kind  and  description."  An- 
other  iiirairraTih    recites:     "Having  .special    faith    and   confi- 


50  WANDERINGS  OF  J.  WILKES  BOOTH 


dence  in  George  E.  Smith,  of  El  Reno,  Oklahoma  Territory, 
I  hereby  designate  him  executor  of  this,  my  last  will  and 
testament  to  serve  without  bond."  Witnesses:  Frank 
Anstine  and  W.  T.  Beeks.  Here  follows  the  usual  jurat 
of    witnesses. 

Another  "last  will  and  testament"  is  of  such  importance 
that  it  is  given  in  full: 

I,  David  E.  George  of  the  County  of  Garfield  and 
Territory  of  Oklahoma,  being  of  sound  mind  and  disposing 
memory,  do  make,  publish  and  declare  this  to  be  my  last 
will  and  testament,  hereby  revoking  all  former  wills  by  me 
made. 

1st.  I  give,  devise  and  bequeath  to  my  nephew  Willy 
George,'if  living,  the  seven  hundred  acre  tract  of  land  which 
I  made  proof  upon  before  the  Dawes  Commission  about 
four  years  ago,  which  tract  of  land  is  located  m  a  body  in 
the  Chickasaw  Nation,  I.  T.,  about  ten  miles  southeast  of 
Marietta,  I.  T.,  and  within  two  miles  of  the  Delaware  Cross- 
ing of  Red  River.  The  intention  of  this  gift,  devise,  and 
bequest  is  to  give  to  my  said  nephew  all  of  said  tract  of 
land,  but  in  the  event  that  I  am  not  granted  by  the  Govern- 
ment the  whole  of  said  tract  then  my  said  nephew  shall 
have  all  of  said  tract  so  granted  by  the  Government  to  me. 
I  further  provide  that  in  the  event  that  my  said  nephew  is 
not  alive  tlien  I  give,  devise  and  bequeath  all  of  said  tract 
of  land  or  so  much  thereof  as  may  be  granted  to  me  by 
the  Government  to  the  Sisters  of  Charity  of  Dallas,  Texas. 

2nd.  I  give  and  bequeath  to  my  friend  Isaac  Bernstein, 
all  money  that  may  be  collected  from  the  life  insurance 
policy  I  hold  of  $3000.00  in  the  Knights  of  Pythias  Lodge 
No.  701  of  Dallas,  Texas,  or  any  other  Knights  of  Pythias 
organization  or  lodge,  also  my  watch,  trunk  and  all  my 
wearing   apparel. 

3rd,  I  give  and  bequeath  to  my  friend  George  E. 
Smith  late  of  El  Reno,  O.  T.  all  money  that  may  be  col- 
lected from  my  life  insurance  policy  of  $2500.00  in  the  New- 
York  Mutual  Life  Insurance  Co.  of  New  York — after  he 
shall  pay  from  the  proceeds  of  said  insurance  all  my  just 
debts,  expenses  of  my  last  illness  and  all  funeral  expenses. 

4th.  I  give  and  devise  and  bequeath  to  my  friend  S.  S. 
Dumont  the  sum   of  ojie  hundred  dollars. 

5th.  I  give  and  bequeath  to  my  friend  L.  N.  Houston 
the  sum  of  one  hundred  and  one  note  signed  by  J.  W. 
Simmons  for  $350.00,  note  dated  at  El  Reno,  O.  T.  July  3, 
1902  and  which   matures  two  years  from  said  date. 

6th.  I  give,  devise  and  bequeath  all  my  other  property 
not  otherwise  dispose^  of  both  real,  personal  and  mixed, 
whatsoever  and  wheresoever  the  same  mar  be  to  the  Roman 
Catholic  Church   of  EJ  Reno,  Oklahoma." 


WANDERINGS  OF  J    WILKES  BOOTH  51 

7th.  Imposing  special  confidence  in  the  integrity  and 
ability  of  my  friend  L.  N.  Houston  I  request  that  he  be 
appointed  executor  of  my  estate  and  that  he  be  not  required 
to  give  bond. 

In  witness  whereof  I  have  hereunto  set  my  hand  this 
31st  dav  of  December,   1902. 

DAVID   E.   GEORGE. 
Signed,   published    and   declared   by   the   said   David   E. 
George  to  be  his  last  will  and  testament  in  the  presence  of 
"us  who  at  his  request  and  in  his  presence   and  in  the  pres- 
ence of  each   other  have  hereunto  subscribed   our  names  as 
witnesses  thereto,  this  the  dav  and  date  above  written. 
R.  B.  BROWN,  Post  Office,  Enid,  O.  T. 
CHAS.  S.  EVANS,  Post  Office,  Enid,  O.  T. 
CHARLES  O.  WOOD,  Post  Office,  Enid,  O.  T. 
Filed  this  16th   dav  of  January,   1903,  in  nrty  office. 
M.  C.  GARBER,  Probate  Judge. 

(No.  1) 

In  Record  of  W^ills,  Page  4.6-45 

Enid,  Oklahoma,  Jan.  13,  1902. 

I  am  informed  that  I  made  a  will  ft  few  days  ago  and 
I   am   indistinct   of  having  done  so. 

I  hereby  recall  every  letter,  syllable  and  word  of  my 
will  that  I   may  have  signed   at  Enid. 

I  owe  Jack  Bernstein  about  ten  dollars  but  he  has  my 
watch   in   pawn   for  the   amount. 

D.  E.  GEORGE. 


In  reference  to  certain  lands  in  the  Chickasaw  Nation 
varinu.«ly  bequeathed  by  Booth  in  his  will,  in  reply  to 
inquiry  Mr.  Clark  Wasson,  superintendent  of  the  Five  Civil- 
ized Tribes,  writes  under  date  of  Muskogee,  July  27: 
"You  are  informed  that  the  names  of  David  E.  George  and 
Willy  George  do  not  appear  upon  any  of  the  approved 
rolls  of  the  Chickasaw  Nation.  Prior  to  approval  of  the 
Choctaw-Chickasaw  agreement  of  July  1,  1902,  ratified  by 
the  Choctaws  and  Chickasaws  September  25,  1902,  all  of 
the  lands  in  those  two  nations  were  held  by  the  members 
thereof  in  common,  etc.  You  are  further  advised  .that  the 
first  allotment  of  land  to  enrolled  citizens  and  freedmen 
of  the  Chickasaw  Nation  was  not  made  until  April  10,  1903." 


Replying  to  inquiry,  F.  S.  M.  Clefment,  superior  of  the 
Sisters  of  Charity  at  Dallas,  Texas,  states  that  nothing  was 
known  there  whatever  of  this  man  (David  E.  George),  etc. 
"We  do  not  think  we  are  the  Sisters  interested."  The  writei* 
is  then  referred  to  the  Sisters  of  Charity  of  St.  Paul's 
Ho.spital.  Dallas. 


32  WANDERINGS  OF  J.  WILKES  BOOTH 

WHAT  THE  HAND  REVEALED 

Bently  Sage,  the  eminent  palmist,  made  a  special  trip 
to  Enid  to  examine  the  hand  of  the  notorious  character, 
with  the  following  reading  as  a   result: 

"I  discover  this  hand  to  be  of  the  spatulate  type,  from 
which  I  learn  that  the  subject  was  emotional,  erratic  and 
governed  almost  entirely  by  inspiration.  Persons  who  have 
this  hand  are  controlled  by  impulse  and  are  carried  to 
extremes  by  the  impressions  of  the  instant.  They  are  what 
science  might  term  impractical.  Of  bright  purpose  and 
brilliant  promise,  they  almost  invariably  fail  to  materialize 
their  ideas.  They  are  etherial  and  poetic.  Their  hopes  are 
rarely  fulfilled  and  they  are  not  only  a  disappointment  to 
themselves,  but  they  disappoint  their  friends  by  their  fail- 
ure to  accomplish  the  real  and  material  things  of  useful 
and  practical  life. 

"This  subject  was  no  exception.  His  intellect  was 
keen  and  wide  awake  and  took  in  the  details  and  peculiar- 
ities of  everything  he  saw,  but  he  lacked  the  faculty  of 
applying  his  mind  toward  the  execution  of  his  ideas.  Like 
all  those  of  a  spatulate  type,  his  vivid  reason  was  the 
admiration  of  his  associates,  because  of  his  effervescent  en- 
thusinspm  and  optimism,  but  he  never  came  down  to  earth 
from  the  heights  of  imagination,  and  remained  pleasure- 
loving,  jovial  and  incomprehensible,  was  subject  to  mood.s 
of  melancholy  and  morbidness.  These  latter  characteristics, 
however,  belong  to  those  of  the  spatulate  type.  It  is  the 
non-fruition  of  hope  to  which  this  moodiness  is  due  in'  the 
spatulate  hand.  It  is  the  sensitive  hand  that  is  easily 
repulsed,  especially  is  this  true  of  this  individual  hand.  He 
was  repelled  by  a  gross  nature,  but  still  he  had  a  large 
faculty  for  friendship  and  a  strong  desire  for  intellectual 
and  genial  friendship. 

"Let  it  be  understood  that  the  foregoing  is  a  study 
of  the  whole  hand,  which,  owing  to  its  peculiar  class,  being 
that  of  the  spatulate,  is  weak  in  many  respects.  In  order 
to  correctly  understand  thoroughly  the  balance  of  this  dis- 
quisition it  will  be  necessary  to  take  the  hand  in  subdivisions 
and  describe  each  division. 

"I  will  begin  with  the  thumb,  which  is  of  tinusual 
length.  All  thumbs  show  the  possession  of  or  lack  of 
leadership,  will  power,  control,  integrity,  reasoning,  plan- 
ning, logic  and  stability. 

"In  this  thumb  I  find  a  man  of  unbending  nature,  one 
who  is  set  in  his  opinions  and  ideas,  and  one  whom  facts 
impress  .strongly,  but  who  did  not  analyze  them  carefully, 
generally  depending  on  observation  and  the  acts  of  others. 
.\t  the  base  of  the  thumb  is  the  mount  of  Venus — Venus 
was  the  mother  of  Love — Venus  indicates  the  desires  rf  life 


WANDERINGS  OF  J.  WILKES  BOOTH  68 

acting  upon  the  line  of  heart.  His  mount  being  full  and 
broad  at  the  base,  indicates  the  emotional  and  sentimental. 
The  mount  of  Jupiter  at  the  base  of  the  index  finger  shows 
pride,  ambition  and  self-e.stcem.  This  man  had  great  ambi- 
tion and  great  aspirations.  He  was  sensijtive  to  a  fault,  and 
the  crosses  and  triangles  found  upon  this  mount  indicate 
that  his  ambitions  were  never  realiz.ed.  His  life  was  ma- 
terially affected  by  disappointments  and  hopes  that  were 
never  realized.  At  the  base  of  the  second  finger  is  the 
mount  of  Saturn,  which  indicates  the  talents  and  gifts  of 
the  individual.  His  would  have  been  literature,  music,  art 
and  imitating.  Being  full  of  inspiration  he  could  have 
developed  the  talents  of  art  and  imitating  which,  together 
with  an  entertaining  disposition  and  gestures  that  were 
smooth  and  appropriate,  he  possessed  the  faculty  of  making 
every  moment  pleasant  to  those  in  his  society.  He  was  a 
man  of  dcgance  and  charm. 

"The  mount  of  .Vpollo,  located  at  the  base  of  the 
ring  finger,  indicates  the  success  of  past,  present  and  future, 
and  in  this  particular  case  I  find  the  mount  to  be  undevel- 
oped, showing  that  he  had  not  reached  the  height  of  his 
ambitions,  and  showing  that  he  had  lived  under  many  heavy 
strains,  due  to  past  failures  and  excitements. 

"The  mount  of  Mercury  at  the  ba?f  of  thf  little  fineer 
indicates  the  domestic  nature  of  the  individual.  This  man 
was  Inyal  to  true  companionship,  but  he  could  love  but  one. 

"The  line  of  heart  at  the  base  of  the  fingers,  .starting  at 
the  index  finger,  signifies  marvelous  powers  of  the  occult 
and  spiritual  intuitions.  It  also  indicates  honor,  wisdom 
and  tender  devotion,  and  in  this  case  proves  one  worthy 
of  nature's  divinest  gifts.  His  head  line  turns  quickly 
downward  across  the  line  of  destiny  into  the  regions  of 
harmony,  imitation  and  romance,  showing  him  to  be  of  a 
sentimental  and  impractical  nature.  The  line  of  life  indi- 
cated around  the  base  of  the  thumb,  which  is  clear  and 
well  defined,  shows  he  would  have  lived  to  reach  a  ripe  old 
age  under  favorable  circumstances.  In  the  illustration  of 
this  hand  is  shown  many  fine  lines  spraying  downward  from 
the  life  line,  which  denotes  loss  of  vitality  and  mental  force. 
.\nd  the  end  of  the  line  turning  upward  to  the  region  of 
vitality  is  a  fatal  sign  with  serious  reverses  in  health.  From 
the  location  and  broken  line  of  the  face  he  appears  to  have 
been  a  person  during  his  life  who  had  a  great  deal  of 
trouble  and  went  through  many  trying  experiences,  and 
who  could  not  rely  upon  friends  for  hrlp,  but  who  had  to 
shape  his  own  career. 

"The  most  interesting  element  in  the  study  of  palmistry 
is  that  of  dates  at  which  important  events  in  the  life  of  the 
individual   have   taken   place,   or   may   be   expected    to   take 


54-  WANDERINGS  OF  J.  WILKES  BOOTH 

place.  And  in  the  reading  of  this  hand,  to  go  into  all  of 
the  events  of  his  past  life  would  take  more  than  three 
pages  of  this  paper,  for  under  favorable  conditions  he  would 
have  lived  to  a  ripe  old  age." 


DEFENSE  ON  THE  STAND 

Here  it  was  well  to  bring  further  evidence  as  to  the 
identity  of  the  Enid  suicide  in  verification  of  the  idea  that 
he  was  as  he  claimed  in  his  dying  words  to  the  landlady 
where  he  roomed;  that  his  right  name  was  John  Wilkes 
Booth;  that  it  was  he  who  killed  President  Lincoln,  etc. 
.  As  [before  stated  a  weak  point  of  Booth's  was  an 
inclination  to  moody  and  despondent  spells,  especially  when 
attached  by  disease  or  recovering  from  the  effects  of  too 
heavy  spells  at  the  jug,  and  on  such  occasions  he  invariably 
gave  up  to  die,  and  manifested  strong  indications  that  he 
would  seek  the  cup  of  bane  to  end  it  all.  And  invariably 
when  under  these  spells  he  seemed  to  pine  for  some  one  on 
whose  confidence  and  secrecy  he  could  depend — some  soul 
cmpanion  that  he  might  unbosom  pent-up  longings  to  give 
to  the  world  what  was  hidden  beneath  his  ever-restless 
bosom,  feeling  that  in  death  would  be  his  surest  balm  for 
the  wfaried  and  worn  wounds  of  conscience;  but  he  always 
waited  to  the  point  where  he  considered  there  was  no  chance 
of  recovery,  and  then,  and  only  then,  would  he  made  a 
confidant  of  someone,  invariably  exaclty  a  solemn  pledge 
of  secrecy  until  his  spirit  should  take  its  dark  pilgrimage 
to  the  unknown. 

City  Editor  Brown  of  the  El  Reno  Democrat  on  being 
shown  the  Texas  tintype  declared  that  he  knew  nothing 
whatever  of  David  E.  George,  (being  a  new-comer) ;  but 
these  are  pictures  of  John  Wilkes  Booth.  Mr.  Brown  said 
he  was  personally  and  well  acquainted  with  John  Wilkes 
Booth  both  on  and  off  the  stage.  I  considered  him  as  the 
greatest  actor  of  his  day  in  America  and  never  missed  an 
opportunity  of  seeing  him — after  in  Baltimore,  New  York 
and  Washington  City  where  I  was  connected  with  the 
federal  army.  I  remember  seeing  him  on  the  street  in 
Washington  City  only  a  short  time  before  the  tragedy.  I 
also  know  others  of  the  Booth  family  and  can  not  be  mis- 
taken about  these  pictures.  (The  tintype  and  the  one  sent 
by  Dana.)  He  says  he  was  in  Washington  at  the  time  the 
body  claimed  to  be  Booth  was  brought  in,  and  owing  to  the 
secrecy  and  mysterious  way  of  handling  that  body  after 
it  reached  there  created  a  belief  quite  general  in  the  federal 
army  that  th  body  was  not  that  of  Booth. 

Mr.  U.  S.  Brown  subsequently  ran  a  paper  at  Cashion, 
a  small  station  between  Kingfisher  and  Guthrie,  and  served 


WANDERINGS  OF  J    WILKES  BOOTH  55 

one  term  in  the  Oklahoma  legislature.  The  writer  was  in- 
timately acquainted  with  him  and  has  often  heard  him 
speak  of  his  acquaintance  with  prominent  members  of  the 
stage,  especially  with  John  Wilkes  Booth.  He  had  no  hes- 
itancy in  declaring  that  in  his  opinion  Booth  was  never 
killed;  in  fact,  Mr.  Brown  declared,  he  was  almost  sure 
the  man  going  under  the  name  of  George  was  Booth.  "If 
not,"  remarked  Mr.  Brown  to  the  writer  while  witnessing 
a  performance  at  the  Overholser — between  acts — "it  need 
never  again  be  said  that  the  Lord  never  made  two  things 
exactly  alike."  Mr.  Brown  went  from  here  to  Wisconsin 
where  he  died  a  few  years  ago. 

Every  important  daily  in  the  Missouri  Valley  including 
St.  Louis,  and  two  of  the  leading  dailies  of  New  York,  had 
representatives  on  the  ground  at  Enid,  and  not  one  of  them 
that  did  not  practically  declare  that  the  suicide  could  be 
none  other  than  Booth.  One  of  these  dailies — the  St.  Louis 
Republic,  stated  editorially  that  there  had  always  been  a 
mystery  surrounding  the  Booth  matter;  that  there  had 
always  been  serious  doubt  as  to  the  party  killed  at  the 
Garrett  home,  especially  the  suspicious  secrecy  of  the  de- 
partment and  the  fact  that  no  one  was  given  an  oppor- 
tunity to  examine  the  body  when  thousands  could  have 
readily  identified  it,  were  it  really  the  body  of  Booth. 
There  could  be  but  one  explanation:  That  the  public  was 
at  such  fever  heat  that  it  was  deemed  best  to  satisfy  that 
public  spirit,  and  that  after  pronouncing  the  body  as  that 
of  Booth  the  Washington  authorities  seemed  determined  to 
keep  up  the  delusion  rather  than  acknowledge  the  weakness 
of  its  investigation. 

The  Enid  Wave  of  January  22,  1903,  while  expressing 
doubt  as  to  the  suicide  being  Booth  admits  that  "The  evi- 
dence of  Mrs.  Harper  as  to  the  fact  that  George  confessed 
to  her  in  El  Reno  at  the  time  he  expected  to  die  that  he 
was  none  other  than  J.  Wilkes  Booth,  together  with  the 
striking  likeness  to  the  assassin  and  the  demeanor  of  the 
man  in  producing  parts  of  Shakespeare's  plays  and  songs 
around  the  saloons  lends  a  possibility  to  the  case.  Be- 
sides, it  is  well-known  that  the  government  was  never  quite 
sure  of  the  death  of  Booth  ♦  •  •  xhe  most  remarkable 
circumstance  surrounding  the  dead  man,  as  leading  to  his 
identification  as  Booth  is  the  fact  that  his  right  leg  was 
broken  just  above  the  ankle.  Then  again  comes  the  re- 
markable likeness  to  Booth  as  given  in  Grant's  memorial. 
With  these  links  come  others,  such  as  the  fact  that  Booth 
was  born  in  1839  and  was  twenty-six  years  of  age  when 
the  national  tragedy  occurred,  and  would  be  63  now  if  still 
living,  which  is  the  exact  age  of  George  as  shown  by  papers 


"iti  WAXDERIXGS  OF  J    WILKES  BOOTH 


*  *  *  Mrs.  Harper,  the  wife  of  the  Methodist  min- 
ister firmly  believes  that  the  suicide  is  Booth,  and  there 
are  numerous  others  about  here  who  believe  the  same  thing 
on  account  of  comparisons  and  peculiarities  of  the  dead 
man. 

And  here  is  another  from  H.  M.  ^\Jlen,  editor  of 
Harper's  Weekly,  who  declares  in  a  letter  of  January  22, 
1S9S,  he  hasn't  the  slightest  doubt  that  the  rumor  that 
John  Wilkes  Booth  "is  still  alive"  (1898),  that  frequently 
reached  Edwin  Booth,  the  actor,  and  brother  of  John 
Wilkes  Booth. 

In  1892  the  Atlanta  Constitution  contained  an  account 
of  the  Booth  matter  in  which  the  claim  was  made  that 
after  the  tragedy  he  made  his  escape  to  New  Orleans 
where  he  sailed  for  the  Holy  Land,  remaining  abroad  for 
several  years.  That  on  returning  he  took  up  a  residence 
in  Mississippi  where  he  then — 1892 — lived.  This  statement 
so  far  as  Booth  being  in  Mississippi  goes  to  corroborate 
the  statement  of  *  *  *  who  declares  he  met  him  there 
about   that   time. 

Soon  after  the  appearance  of  the  Booth  article  His- 
toria  received  a  newspaper  clipping  containing  a  statement 
from  a  Mrs.  Chapman  who  says  her  husband  was  with  the 
Booth  pursuing  force,  and  that  he  always  claimed  Booth 
had  been  killed.  While  Historia  has  no  record  of  any.  one 
named  Chapman  with  the  Booth  pursuing  force  it  is'  not 
unlikely  that  such  a  person  was  among  the  thousands  who 
took  part  in  the  memorable  chase.  It  isn't  likely  however 
that  Mr.  Chapman  saw  the  man  killed  at  the  Garrett  home, 
otherwise  some  record  would  show  the  fact.  He  was  prob- 
ably among  others.  Nor  does  Mrs.  Chapman  claim  that 
her  husband  had  ever  seen  Booth  alive,  hence  would  not 
have   recognized  him   dead. 

Now  that  Mayor  Ryan  of  Enid  declares  that  the  suicide 
David  E.  George  was  not  Booth  and  assigns  as  his  reason 
that  "Gcosge  had  grey  eyes,"  it  will  be  in  order  for  some 
one  else  to  also  declare  that  the  suicide  was  not  Booth  and 
assign   as  his   reason   that   George   had   red   hair. 

J.  F.  Pennick  writing  from  Detroit,  Michigan,  under 
date  of  March  8,  1921,  says  while  at  the  public  library  in 
that  city  he  noticed  a  little  magazine  called  Historia  to 
which  his  attention  was  especially  attracted  by  a  portrait 
on  the  front  page.  He  at  once  recognized  it  although  he 
says  it  had  been  a  quarter  of  a  century  since  he  looked 
into    the    fact    of    "John    Wilkes    Booth."     "I    read    in    that 


WANDERINGS  OF  J    WILKES  BOOTH  57 

paper  your  account  of  the  suicide  at  Enid,"  says  Pennick, 
"which  I  must  confess  fairly  startled  me;  for  I  had  believed 
to  that  moment  that  Booth  had  been  killed  at  the  Garrett 
home  soon  after  the  assassination.  I  have  a  photo  of 
Booth  handed  me  by  the  great  actor  in  person  rnly  a  few 
months  before  his  rash  act,  in  1865,  and  except  the  picture 
produced  by  you  shows  a  little  more  trace  of  time  you 
could  scarcely  tell  them  apart.  I  was  so  wrapped  up  in 
your  account  that  I  asked  privilege  of  retaining  the  copy 
of  Historia,  but  the  librarian  refused  to  let  it  go  out.  I 
wrote  enclosing  stamp  for  an  extra  copy  which  I  received 
and  have  kept,  reading  and  rereading  your  account  until  I 
am  persuaded  you  have  the  matter  pretty  well  under  con- 
trol. I  would  send  the  photo  I  have  were  I  not  afraid  of 
losing  it  in  the  mails;  for  I  wouldn't  lose  it  for  any  su!n. 
However,  if  you  desire  I  can  have  a  ccpy  made  and  send 
you  for  comparison."  A  subsequent  request  was  made  fnr 
Mr.  Pennick  to  send  his  copy  but  we  failed  to  receive 
a  response,  yet  the  letter  was  not  returned,  the  envelope 
containing  return  card. — Editor  Historia. 

Levi  Thrailkell  with  whom  the  Enid  suicide  crossed  the 
plains  was  absolutely  positive  as  to  identification.  He  said 
when  camped  on  the  South  Platte  some  two  hundred  and 
fifty  miles  out  from  Nebraska  City  he  received  a  visit  fri^ni 
a  number  of  distinguished  gentlemen  connected  with  the 
Union  Pacific  survey,  including  General  Augur  who  had 
come  from  the  Laramie  country  to  meet  the  Uni'->n  Pacific 
contingent  among  who  were  Lieut.  Wheelan  and  Dr.  Terry. 
I  made  a  search  for  Jesse  to  aid  in  entertaining  the  visitors, 
but  he  was  not  in  camp,  nor  did  he  appear  until  next  morn- 
ing after  the  visitors  had  left,  and  then  with  his  blankets, 
having  slept  under  a  clump  of  bushes,  as  he  said.  I  ex- 
pressed regret  that  he  was  not  present  to  meet  the  dis- 
tinguished visitors.  He  made  various  inquiries  such  as — 
if  they  were  government  officers,  if  they  seemed  on  the 
trail  of  any  one,  etc.  On  being  assured  that  they  were  all 
in  a  way  government  officers  but  were  simply  out  there  on 
Union  Pacific  survey  matters  and  as  guards  over  track  and 
survey  crews,  the  Indians  being  sullen  at  that  time.  "I 
should  liked  so  much  if  you  could  have  met  these  gentlemen, 
especially  General  Augur — "  At  the  mention  of  Augur 
Jesse  drew  a  short  breath  with,  to  himself  with  knit  brows 
— "Augur!"  then  recovering:  "Thanks,  I  don't  care  to  be 
"bored,"  with  evident  aim  to  play  on  the  name.  He  said 
he  detested  government  "hounds"  as  he  called  them,  espec- 
ially in  uniform.  On  being  asked  why,  he  simply  shrugged 
his  shoUder,  with — "Why  does  a  Jew  detest  a  grunting 
pig?"  looking  me   straight   in  the  eye.     He  seemed   anxious 


g8  WANDERINGS  OF  J.  WILKES  BOOTH 

to  know  if  cur  course  lay  in  the  direction  of  the  Augur 
headquartres,  he  being  then  in  command  of  the  Wyoming 
department.  I  informed  him  that  while  our  course  lay  in 
the  dhecticn  we  would  not  probably  pass  within  several 
miles  of  the  grvernmcnt  contingent.  From  this  on,  Jesse 
Smiih  seemed  like  a  different  man — as  if  anxious  and  dis- 
tressed over  something — thought  but  little  of  then,  but  now 
recalled  quite  well.  As  before  stated,  he  left  us  before 
reaching  Salt  Lake  without  a  solitary  "good-bye"  or  draw- 
ing a  penny  cf  his  wage." 

Mr.  Terry  MrComas  under  St.  Louis  date  of  November 
2,  1919,  says:  "Passing  through  Muskogee  in  your  state 
en  my  way  from  Colorado  to  this  city  I  ran  across  a  copy 
cf  a  small  publicTtion  at  the  Melton  Hotel  in  which  was  a 
story  ab'-ut  Booth  with  a  small  picture  of  him.  This  pic- 
ture called  to  mind  an  incident  of  my  trip  from  the  states 
to  Colorado.  Along  about  the  first  of  July,  1876,  I  camped 
near  a  goodly  stream  skirting  a  mountain  (the  Bosque, 
I  think),  in  northwestern  Texas.  Not  a  great  way  was  a 
water  wheel  grist  mill  and  small  store  in  which  was  kept  a 
few  Grrnceries,  tobacco  and  whiskey,  I  making  purchase  of 
the  latter  two  items.  I  found  in  charge  of  the  shack  a 
very  stiikinc:  figure  who  seemed  to  take  life  easy,  a  Mexican 
parter  waiting  en  custmers.  I  was  importuned  to  remain 
over  until  after  the  4lh  of  July  as  there  was  to  be  some 
sort  of  cflcbration  there,  some  noted  western  border  gen- 
eral, whose  name  I  cannot  now  recall  was  to  be  the  orator. 
I  remained  and  was  surprised  at  the  dramatic  way  in  which 
the  storekeeper  presided  as  toastmaster.  On  seeing  the 
picture  in  the  small  publication  referred  to  the  face  of  the 
Texan  came  up  vividly.  If  I  ever  heard  the  name  of  the 
Texan  it  has  escaped  my  memory.  I  intended  writing  you 
before  leaving  Muskogee  but  failed  to  do  so.  I  am  making 
my  home  here  on  Franklin  Street,  and  would  appreciate  a 
copy  of  your  paper  and  also  the  next  one  and  will  be 
glad  to  remit." 

Dr.  H.  W.  Gay  declares  that  he  knew  Booth  in  1857; 
that  while  a  prisoner  of  war  at  Fort  Donaldson  in  186-5 
he  was  shocked  to  learn  of  the  tragedy  at  Washington, 
and  more  so  that  his  old  actor  friend  Booth  was  charged 
with  the  deed.  "Though  but  a  boy  when  I  first  knew 
him,"  says  Dr.  Gay,  "in  appearance  he  was  one  of  the 
most  accomplished  young  men  I  have  ever  come  in  contact 
with.  All  who  knew  him  well  became  captivated  by  him. 
He  was  one  of  the  most  hospitable,  genial  souls  to  be  met, 
and  in  company  was  always  quoting  Shakespeare  or  some 
other  classic  poet.  I  read  the  account  of  his  capture  and 
death   at  the  Garrett  home,   and  never   doubted   until   1869 


WANDERINGS  OF  J    WILKES  BOOTH  59 

■when   I  was  living  in  what  is  now  Tate  county,  Mississippi. 
One   evening  near   dark   a   young   man    rapped   at   my   door 
and   assked   permission   to   be   taken    in   for   the   night;   that 
he   was   one   of   the   ku   klux   klan    ran   out   of   Arkansas   by 
Powell  Clayton's  militia.    -I  soon  recognized  this  man,"  says 
Dr.    Gay,    "as    an    erratic    fellow.      During    his    stay    at    my 
house  he  told  me  that  John  Wilkes  Booth  was  not  killed  at 
the    Garrett    home    as    generally    believed,    but    made    his 
escape,  spending  a  short  time  in  Mexico  with  Maximillian's 
army,  but  soon  got  into  trouble  and  his  life  was  only  saved 
by   his   being   a   Catholic.     He   also   told   me   the   manner   of 
Booth's  escape  after  the  assassination,   of  his  mazeppa  ride 
from  the  Ford  theatre  to  the  east  Potomac  bridge,  his  per- 
mission   to   proceed    on    giving   the   password,    his    trail    via 
Surrattsville,    Bryantown,    etc.     Here    follows    the    precise 
routes   given   in   the   Booth   confession    in   Texas,    and   later 
as  traced  on  the  wall  map  in  Waukomis. 

There  are  among  questions  intricate  in  connection  with 
the    Booth    matter.     It    may   be    recalled    that    when    Booth 
was   dragged   from   the   darky   Lewis'   wagon   after   crossing 
the   Potomac  he  lost  his  large  pocketbook  in   which  were   a 
photo  of  Agnes  Booth,   a   few  personal  letters   and   a  check 
for  three  hundred  pounds  on   a   Canadian  bank;  that  being 
closely  i)ressed  by  pursuers  Booth  asked  the  man  Ruddy  to 
recross    the    river    and    if    possible    find    the    old    darky    and 
secure    the   pocketbook    and    bring   it    to    the    Garrett    farm 
after  he  and  Herold  had  been   to  Bowling  Green   to  secure 
a    shoe    for    Booth's    lame    foot    and    other    supplies    which 
would  not  be  earlier  than  two  days  from  that  date.      Mean- 
time it  will  al9o  he  recalled  Booth  had  given  Ruddy  a  check 
for  three  hundred  pounds  on  a  Canadian  bank  in  considera- 
tion of  services  in  finding  safe  escort  to  within  Mosbv's  lines 
near  Bowling  Green.      On   the  body   of  the  man   killed   was 
found  various  papers,  a  check  for  three  hundred  pounds  on 
a  Canadian  bank,  a  photo  of  Agnes  Booth  and  a  couple  of 
personal   letters   addressed   to   Booth.     The  findins   of  these 
items   on   the  dead   body   would   in   the   absence   of  contrary 
proof  lead  to  no  other  conclusion  than  it  was  Booth.     This 
wns  given  at  the  time  as  a   reason   why   no  further  evidence 
uit    dfpippcl    necessary,    probably    why    the    bodv    was    not 
f— hilvtpri   f'-r   idrntification   unless^  rumors   of  other  reasons 
thnua-h    undercurrent    at    the   time   were    more   than    rumors. 

Speaking  of  the  Enid  suicide,  the  El  Reno  Democrat, 
then  edited  by  Hon.  Tom  Hensley,  at  present  a  member  of 
the  Oklahoma  state  senate,  savs  in  edition  of  June  3.  1903: 
"From  the  evidence  at  hand  there  is  no  doubt  the  man  who 
died  in  Enid  last  January  and  who  was  supposed  by  some  to 
be   John   Wilkes   Booth,   the   assassin    of   President   Lincoln, 


60       U  ANDERINGS  OF  J    WILKES  ROOTH 

was  really  the  man,  he  being  identified  bj-  many  who  knew 
Booth  before  and  during  the  war  and  since.  After  the 
death  of  the  man  certain  papers  were  found  on  him  led  to 
the  opinion  that  he   was  the  fugitive   assassin,"   etc. 

The  Perry  Republican  under  date  of  June  5,  1903,  said 
in  regard  to  the  Booth  case,  "It  is  now  fully  developed  that 
the  man  who  committed  suicide  at  Enid  was  none  other 
than  John  Wilkes  Booth.  Junius  Brutus  Booth,  nephew 
of  John  Wilkes  Booth,  identifies  the  picture  nf  David  E. 
George  as  that  of  his  uncle  John  Wilkes  Booth. 

"It  has  always  been  known  by  the  Booth  family  that 
John  Wilkes  was  alive  and  they  have  been  in  constant  com- 
munication with  him  ever  since  the  tragedy  of  186.5.  This 
knowledge  is  what  prompted  the  nephew  and  the  brother, 
Edwin,  as  well  as  other  meiiibers  of  the  family  to  make 
certain  remarks  abcut  the  supposed  grave  of  John  Wilkes. 
They  well  knew  that  the  body  in  the  grave  was  not  that 
of  John  Wilkes.  From  the  time  of  Booth's  supposed  cap- 
ture in  1SG5  until  January  of  this  year  J.  Wilkes  Booth 
has  been  in  almost  constant  touch  with  his  friends.  Being 
an  actor,  and  also  being  secluded  in  the  wilds  of  Texas  and 
the  Indian  Territory,  and  through  the  anxious  eff'orts  of 
relatives  and  friends  to  preserve  his  life  it  has  been  an  easy 
matter  for  him  to  conceal  his  identity.  In  this  he  has  been 
as  smooth  as  was  his  disguise  as  an  old  colored  man  moving. 
There  are  no  records  in  the  Federal  archives  which  go  to 
show  any  direct  or  positive  proof  of  the  death  of  Booth. 

"At  the  time  of  the  suicide  of  George  in  Enid  and  his 
claim  to  be  none  other  than  John  Wilkes  Booth,  the  Repub- 
lican expressed  belief  in  the  confep«!ion  of  the  man.  All  the 
facts  in  the  case  point  to  the  truthfulness  of  his  death-bed 
statement." 

S.  S.  Dumont,  proprietor,  and  B.  B.  Brown,  clerk  of 
the  Grand  Avenue,  made  oath  that  they  knew  the  suicide 
who  on  the  3rd  day  of  December,  1902,  and  the  13th  day 
of  January,  1903,  registered  at  their  hotel  as  David  E. 
George,  that  a  tintype  picture  shown  by  F.  L.  Bates  was 
in  every  w^ay  a  perfect  likeness  in  every  feature  of  the 
suicide.  This  oath  was  subscribed  before  Guy  S.  Manott, 
notary  public. 

From  the  St.  Louis  Post  Dispatch  under  Enid  date  of 
June  3,  1903:  "Junius  Booth,  the  nephew  and  actor,  identi- 
fies from  photographs,  etc.,  the  man,  David  E.  George,  as 
his  uncle,  John  Wilkes  Booth." 

Enid  Wave  of  January  27,  1903:  "David  E.  George,  a 
wealthy  resident  of  the  Territory,  who  committed  suicide 
here,  announced  himself  on  his  death-bed  to  be  John  Wilkes 


WANHERINGS  OF  J    WILKES  BOOTH  81 


Booth.  He  said  he  had  successfully  eluded  the  officers  after 
the  shooting  and  since  had  remained  incogniti.  His  state- 
ment caused  a  sensation.  Physicians  examined  the  body 
and  slated  the  man  to  be  the  age  Booth  would  be  at  this 
time,  and  announced  that  his  leg  was  broken  in  the  same 
place  and  in  the  same  manner  as  that  of  Booth  after  jump- 
ing from  the  president's  box  at  Ford's  theatre.  .\11  the 
time  George  has  received  regular  remittances  of  money  from 
unknown  sources,  and  telegrams  arriving  yesterday  and  to- 
day ask  that  the  body  be  held  for  identification.  It  is 
claimed  that  one  telegram  came  from  the  address  of  George 
E.  Smith,  Colfax,  Iowa,  the  same  as  the  mysterious  money 
remittances.  Mr.  Smith  on  arrival  commanded  that  no 
other  jieison  be  allowed  to  view  the  remains,  and  promised 
to  return  for  the  body  later.  iMr.  Smith  was  asked  if 
Georcf  li;id  ever  confe.s.sed  anv  of  his  life's  history  to  him, 
to  wiiich  lie  answered:  'Well  yes,  to  some  extent.  He 
had  a  past  of  which  I  do  not  care  to  speak  at  present.  •  *  * 
He   may  be   Booth.'  " 

Same  publication  of  January  21,  1903:  "The  Wave's 
force  has  been  searching  closely  for  data  and  evidence  to 
sustain  or  obliterate  the  report  that  the  remains  lying  in 
the  F>nid  morgue  under  the  name  of  David  E.  George  could 
possibly  be  John  Wilkes  Booth.  *  *  *  The  Wave  is  still  of 
the  opinion  that  the  possibility  of  the  dead  man  being  all 
that  is  mortal  of  John  Wilkes  Booth  remains  in  doubt,  but 
it  must  be  admitted  that  the  evidence  goes  to  show  that  if 
George  was  not  Booth  he  was  his  double,  which  in  connec- 
tion with  his  voluntary  confession  to  Mrs.  Harper  makes 
the  case  interesting  and  worthy  the  attention  of  the  attorney 
general's  department  of  the  United  States. 

The  December,  1901,  number  of  the  Medical  Monthly 
Journal  was  devoted  almost  exclusively  to  the  consideration 
of  the  assassins  of  presidents  of  the  United  States  and  of 
European  potentates.  In  that  pamphlet  was  printed  a  por- 
trait of  Booth  with  a  write-up  as  to  his  character,  a  physical 
and  anotomical  description.  It  said  the  forehead  was  kep- 
halonard,  the  ears  excessively  and  abnormally  developed 
inclined  to  the  satanic  type;  the  eyes  were  small,  sunken 
and  unevenly  placed;  the  nose  was  normal;  the  facial  bone 
and  jaw  were  arrested  in  development,  and  there  was  a 
partial  V-shaped  dental  arch;  the  lower  jaw  was  well- 
developed. 

"Yesterday  the  editor,  in  company  with  Dr.  McElreth 
visited  the  corpse  and  compared  it  with  the  above  descrip- 
tion of  Booth,  and  we  must  acknowledge  that  the  dead 
man  shows  all  the  marks  credited  to  Booth  in  every  partic- 
ular.     The  satanic  ear  is  not  much  larger  than  the  ordinary 


ti2 WANDERINGS  OF  J    WILKES  BOOTH 

ear,  but  the  lower  lobe  clings  close  to  the  side  of  the  head 
instead  of  projecting  outward  like  the  ordinary  ear.  The 
eyebrows  of  the  dead  man  are  not  mates  in  appearance, 
which  fits  the  description."  (It  may  be  remarked  in  this 
connection  that  every  measurement  as  taken  of  the  Enid 
suicide  exactly  fits  the  measurements  of  Booth  as  given  in 
Geant's  Memoirs.) 

On  reading  accounts  of  the  suicide  at  Enid,  Col.  M.  W^. 
Donnelly,  one  of  the  best  known  newspaper  men  in  the 
west  wrote:  "I  am  strongly  inclined  to  believe  that  the 
man  who  committed  suicide  is  John  Wilkes  Booth.  In  1883 
I  met  George  although  I  never  knew  his  name  and  don't 
know  whether  he  went  under  that  name  or  not.  He  im- 
pressed me.  I  had  seen  Edwin  Booth  and  had  some  knowl- 
edge of  the  appearance  of  the  Booth  family."  Here,  Mr. 
Donnelly  says  he  some  time  later  took  editorial  charge  of 
the  Fort  Worth  Gazette  and  had  forgotten  all  about  meet- 
ing George  or  whoever  it  was  at  Village  Mills  until  one 
night  while  in  the  Pickwick  hotel  bar-room  with  Gen.  Pike, 
there  on  legal  business.  Major  Michie  of  LaGrange,  Tenn., 
Capt.  Powell,  then  mayor  of  Fort  Worth,  and  Lon  Scurlock 
of  the  Cleburne  paper.  Capt.  Day  of  the  firm  of  Day  & 
Maas  was  behind  the  bar.  Mr.  Donnelly  here  gives  the 
story  of  the  young  man  coming  in  at  which  Gen.  Pike  threw 
up  his  hands  with:  "My  God!  John  WMlkes  Booth!"  and 
became  so  excited  that  he  had  to  be  assisted  to  his  room. 
Mr.  Donnelly  refers  to  Temple  Houston  agreeing  to  make 
search  for  the  stranger,  substantially  as  related  elsewhere 
in  this  volume:  "I  never  saw  Booth,  but  have  seen  pictures 
of  him  and  am  convinced  that  the  Enid  suicide  was  him.  I 
am  also  convinced  that  the  venerable  author  of  'Every 
Year'  believed  it  was  Booth." 

One  of  the  highest  compliments  ever  paid  John  Wilkes 
Booth  was  by  Secretary  John  Hay  the  eminent  statesman 
and  pnet  who  as  last  as  the  first  part  of  1890  wrote  in 
part  that  he  "was  a  young  man  of  twenty-six,  strikingly 
handsome,  with  a  pale  olive  face,  dark  eyes,  and  that  ease 
and  grace  of  manner  which  came  to  him  by  right  from  his 
theatrical  ancestry."  Then  in  regard  to  the  escape:  "Booth 
in  his  flight  gained  the  navy  bridge  (East  Potomac)  in  a 
few  minutes  and  was  allowed  to  pass  the  guards,  and  shortly 
afterward  Herrold  came  on  the  bridge  and  was  allowed  to 
pass;  a  moment  later  the  owner  of  the  horse  rode  by 
Herrold  came  up  in  pursuit  of  his  animal,  and  he,  the  only 
honest  man  of  the  three,  was  turned  back  by  the  guards. 
If  Booth  had  been  in  health  there  is  no  reason  why  he 
should  not  have  remained  at  large  a  long  while.  He  misht 
even  have  made  his  escape  to  some  foreign  country.   •   *   • 


VV'yVXDERINGS  OF   T    WTT,KES  BOOTH  63 

It  is  easy  to  hide  among  sympathizing  people;  many  a 
union  soldier  escaping  from  prison  walked  hundreds  of  miles 
through  the  enemy's  country,  relvjng  only  upon  the  friend- 
ship of  negroes.  Booth  from  the  time  he  crossed  the  navy 
yard  bridge  received  the  assistance  of  a  large  number  of 
friends.  With  such  devoted  assistance  he  might  have  wand- 
ered a  long  way.  •  »  •  From  the  nature  of  things  he  might 
have  escaped." 

Col.  Edwin  Levan  of  Monteray,  Mexico,  wrote  a  story 
in  which  he  declared  that  a  man  whom  he  believed  to  be 
Booth,  but  giving  his  name  as  J.  J.  Marr,  roomed  with 
him  during  the  winter  of  1868  in  Lexington,  Ky.;  and  he 
openly  told  the  man  that  he  believed  him  to  be  Booth, 
which  met  no  denial;  but  shortly  after  "Marr"  left  Lexing- 
ton, where  he  had  held  out  as  a  lawyer,  but  did  no  practice. 
Levan  says  that  he  subsequently  learned  that  "Marr"  settled 
in  Village  Mills,  Texas,  and  from  there  went  to  Glen  Rose 
Mills  in  Hood  county,  Texas. 

What  power  influenced  Gen.  Augur  to  call  off  the 
guards  about  Washington  the  fatal  night  of  April  14,  1865? 
What  superior  influence  was  brought  to  bear  on  General 
Grant  to  have  him  suddenly  leave  Washington  that  same 
evening  after  it  had  been  arranged  he  should  occupy  a  box 
with  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Lincoln  at  the  Ford?  Who  furnished 
Booth  and  Herrold  with  the  pass  word  that  let  them  cross 
the  bridge?  Why  were  they  permitted  to  pass  at  so  late 
an  hur  when,  as  John  Hay  puts  it,  "the  only  honest  man 
of  the  three"  was  not  permitted  to  pass.  Could  Booth  or 
Herrold  either  of  them  or  both  have  accomplished  these 
things?  Of  courses  not.  Then —  It  is  said  a  fool  can  ask 
questions   a  wise  man   cannot  answer. 


KNEW  BOOTH  IN  WASHINGTON 

Among  the  many  citizens  of  Enid  who  were  there  in 
1903,  one  of  them  seems  to  have  been  specially  interested 
in  George.  This  is  George  Fairgrieves,  at  present  a  dray- 
man. His  mother  was  in  Ford's  theatre  M'hen  the  tragedy 
occurred,  saw  Booth  make  the  famous  leap  as  he  held  a 
dagger  aloft  and  cried  "sis  semper  tyranus."  In  1903  when 
the  saloon  was  a  popular  resort  for  night-idlers  of  Enid, 
young  Fairgrieves  usually  held  an  evening  chair  at  either 
Blondie's  Hot  Dog  or  the  Whitehouse,  both  on  the  west 
side  of  the  square,  faro  being  "without  limit"  at  each. 
Here  George  spent  an  occasional  night,  but  seldom  took 
a  hand  in  any  of  the  games  except  when  he  should  notice 
some  unsophisticated  fellow  at  the  table  to  be  fleeced  by 
the  gang.  On  such  occasions  George  would  get  into  the 
game,  evidently  for  the   sole  purpose   of  making  a  killing 


6i  \\^\NDERIXGS  OF  J.  WILKES  BOOTH 

so  as  to  save  the  young  unsophistic;  usually  taking  the  pot 
and  handing  the  young  tenderfoot  back  his  losings  with  an 
admonition:  "Young  man,  beware  of  the  other  man's 
game."  The  night  before  the  suicide  young  Fairgrieves, 
Andy  Morrison,  Lee  Boyd  and  a  few  others  were  present 
where  George  was  pretty  well  in  his  cups.  On  one  of  his 
friends  advising  him  that  he  would  best  go  to  his  room, 
George  tipped  his  glass  with  a  pleasing  smile, 

This  my  last  token  of  esteem! 

This  the  final   of  a  fruitless  dream. 

Then  drink  once  more  from  the  spirit  glass! 

For  this  the  ending!     No  more!     Alas! 

The  tides  are  here  and  we  must  sever-;-- 

Again   to   mingle   greetings   never! 

No  more — "tis  our  last  drink  together!" 

Like  chaff  we're  drifting  here  and  hither, 

We   go,   we    go — we   know    not   whither: 

Drifting!     Drifting  down  fate's  river. 

No  more  we'll   meet   in   reckless  pleasure' 

No  more  we'll  tread  to  revel's  measure! 

So  here!     Our  souls  more  sadly  pressed-- 

One  more  drink— to  lend  the  spirit  rest. 

Yet   drink   no   draft   of  parting  pain; 

That  parting  greet  with  merry  frain. 

For  here   our  social  tares  shall   wither 

To  drift  as  lightened  blows  of  hether. 

As  on  we  go!     We  go — we  know  not  whither. 

Drifting!     Drifting  down  fate's  river. 

There  was  an  eloquence  that  fairly  thrilled  and  a 
pathos  that  would  have  stirred  us  all  to  greater  depths  had 
we  even  suspected  that  the  lines  were  from  deeper  than 
the  lips.  It  was  the  last  I  saw  of  poor  Gerge  until  I  saw 
him  at  the  morgue.  Poor  old  chum — David  E.  George  as 
we  knew  him.  He  was  always  so  kindly  disposed,  a  com- 
moner though  always  immaculate  in  dress  and  deportment. 
He  seemed  to  me  like  some  rich,  refined  idler  whose  time 
hung  havy  and  who  was  trying  to  forget  something.  He 
was  a  consumate  elocutionist,  quoting  classic  authors  with 
a  readiness  that  made  him  a  captivating  guest.  I  shall 
never  forget  the  kindly  admonitions  which  fell  from  his 
lips,  and  to  them  I  feel  that  I  owe  much.  As  to  his  being 
Booth,  of  course  I  do  not  know,  except  I  can't  believe  he 
would  have  said  he  was  on  a  dying  couch  without  it  being 
so.  Besides,  an  Irish  chum  of  mine  told  me  right  after 
the  suicide  that  he,  my  Irish  friend,  knew  Booth  when  he 
was  a  young  man;  knew  the  marks  that  would  be  found  on 
the  suicide  if  indeed  he  was  Booth.  My  Irish  friend  in- 
sisted on  my  accompanying  him  to  the  morgue,  and  there 


WANDERINGS  OF  J    WILKES  BOOTH  65 


every  mark,  including  the  scar  over  one  eyebrow  was  found 
Lee  Boyd,  at  present  the  veteran  telegraph  operator  of  the 
exactly  as  my  friend  had  described.  Mr.  Fairgrieves  says 
Rock  Island,  Enid,  who  was  also  at  the  Ford  Theatre  the 
night  in  question  and  could  no  doubt  recall  the  scene  "at 
parting."  The  lines  were  penned  by  the  author  of  this 
volume  a  number  of  years  previous,  but  had  never  been 
published.  The  only  way  George  could  have  gotten  hold  of 
them,  the  writer  thinks — they  must  have  been  among  the 
pencilings  handed  him  during  his  Waukomis  visit.  And 
one  of  the  greatest  assets  of  a  dramatic  artist  is  his  faculty 
of  committing  to  memory.  One  reading  at  any  number  of 
lines  can  be   repeated   at  will. 

SAW  LINCOLN  SHOT. 

William  J.  Ferguson  was  a  call  boy  at  the  Ford,  and 
had  been  given  occasional  minor  parts  on  the  stage.  On 
the  night  of  the  tragedy  he  had  the  part  of  Lieutenant 
Vernon,  the  Mid-Shipman,  in  place  of  Courtland  Hess  who 
was  unable  to  take  the  assignment.  Young  Ferguson,  then 
only  16,  had  a  "hair  breadth  escape"  from  being  either 
strung  up  or  sent  to  Dry  Tortugus.  He  was  well  acquainted 
with  Booth  and  sometimes)  looked  after  his  horse.  On  this 
night  he  was  requested  to  hold  the  animal,  which  it  seems 
had  two  deformities — blind  in  one  eye,  and  "wouldn't  stand 
hitched."  But  on  this  occasion  young  Ferguson  was  too 
much  occupied  "on  the  ship"  and  Ned  Spangler,  a  scene 
shifter  was  requisitioned  as  hoss-holderj  but  his  duties 
were  such  on  the  stage  that  he  turned  the  reinsi  over  to 
Joe  Burroughs,  a  bill  carrier  and  general  handy  about  tha 
theatre.  The  latter  escaped  being  sent  up  or  swinging  with 
the  other  "conspirators"  from  the  fact  that  he  did  not  re- 
ceive the  reins  directly  from  Booth,  but  from  Spangler  who 
was  sent  to  Dry  Tortugus  for  the  "crime."  Besides,  the 
lad  was  knocked  down  by  Booth  as  he  mounted,  presum- 
ably to  keep  him  from  raising  a  cry.  Mr.  Ferguson  is  so 
far  as  the  writer  can  learn,  one  of  the  only  three  living 
stage  characters  who  were  with  Our  American  Cousins. 
Since  that  day  he  has  developed  into  one  of  the  foremost 
actors  on  the  American  stage,  and  is  still  in  that  line, 
though  transferred  mostly  to  the  screen.  He  also  makes 
contributions  to  various  magazines,  one  of  his  articles  ap- 
pearing in  the  American  Magazine  of  August,  1920,  under 
the  title  of  "I  Saw  Lincoln  Shot!"  This  Is  the  most  com- 
plete and  authentic  account  yet  given — he  being  the  only 
person  who  saw  Booth  almost  continuously  from  the  mo- 
ment he  entered  the  theatre  until  landing  on  his  horse  af- 
ter the  fatal  shot.  The  portrait  in  this  volume  illustrated 
the  American  Magazine  story. 


66 


WAXDERINGS  OF  J.  WILKES  BOOTH 


I  was  standing  in  the  front  entrance  just  off  the  stage, 
says  Mr.  Ferguson,  wlien  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Lincoln,  accompan- 
ied by  Major  H.  R.  Rathbone  and  Miss  Clara  Harris  were 


in  the  balcony  box  to  the  right  and  directly  in  front  of  me 
about  thirty  feet  away.  At  my  side  was  Miss  Laura  Keene, 
and  I  was  just  on  the  eve  of  "speaking  my  piece"  follow- 
ing a  soloquy  by  Harry  Hawk  as  "Asa  Trenchard."  The 
second  scene  of  the  third  act  had  been  reached,  when  sud- 
denly a  shot  rang  out  close  to  where  the  President  was  sit. 


WANDERINGS  OF  J.  WILKES  BOOTH  67 


ting  in  a  rocking  chair  hidden  from  the  audience  by  drap- 
ery and  the  wooden  walls  which  shut  off  his  balcony  box. 
There  was  a  puff  of  smoke.     The  President's  head  sagged 
forward.     The  same  instant  Booth  sprang  to  the  front  of 
the  box,   grasping  the   rail   with   his  right  hand,   a  bowie  in 
the  left.     From  the  balcony  box  to  the  stage  is  a  direct 
drop  of  twelve  feet.     As  Booth  was  in  the  act  of  springing 
over,  Major  Rathbone  rushed  forward  and  grabbed  him  by 
the   coat   tail,   but  his  hold  was   broken   as   Booth   lunged 
back  and  gave  a  vicious  thrust,  inflicting  an  ugly  gash  in 
the    Major's   left  arm.     In   vaulting  over  the    rail   Booth's 
spur  caught  in   the   drapery,  at  which  he   made  an   ariel 
whirl  and  fell  in  a  lump  on  the  stage.     Almost  instantly 
however,  he  was  on  his  feet,  and  rushed  across  the  front  of 
the   stage  toward  the  entrance  where   Miss  Keene  and  I 
were  standing.     Dimly  I  recognized  that  the  President  had 
been  shot,  and  I  knew  that  Booth,  withi  whom  I  was  well 
acquainted,  and  with  whom  I  talked  only  a  few  hours  pre- 
vious, had  done  the  deed.     His  olive  complexion,  and  his 
handsome  oval  face  was  blanched  to  a  deathly  white.     His 
black  eyes  blazing,  his  lips  drawn  firmly  against  his  teeth 
as  he  panted  in  pain  from  his  fractured  leg,  in  another  mo- 
ment he  had  run  between  Miss  Keene  and  myself,  pushing 
us  apart  and   back  against  the   walls   of   the  entrance.     I 
felt  the  hot  breath  on  my  cheek  as  he  shoved  me  with  his 
left  hand,  the  knife  flashing  before  my  eyes.     Back  of  the 
wings  was  a  narrow  passage  wliich  led  to  a  door  in  the 
rear  wall  entering  into  an  alley.     Miss  Jenney  Gourtney, 
one  of  the  players  and  William  Withers,  leader  of  the  or- 
chestra,   were    in    the    passage   and   blocked    the    path    of 
escape,  but  as  he  rushed  down  this  passage.  Withers  turn- 
ed in  surprise  at  the  commotion  and  received  a  slash  in  his 
coat.     By  this  time  I  had  partially  recovered  from  my  daze 
and  followed  Booth  as  far  as  the  angle  in  the  wall  when 
he  dashed  through  the  rear  door,  leaving  it  open  behind 
him.     Little    Jonny    Burroughs    who    was    holding    Booth's, 
horse  was  shoved  to  the  ground   (Burroughs  says  he  was. 
knocked  down  and  given  a  swift  kick)  as  Booth  sprung  in- 
to the  saddle  and  dashed  off  under  spur.     Not  to  exceed 
forty  seconds  'elapsed  between  the  firing  of  the  shot  and 
flight. 


68  WANDERINGS  OF  J.  WILKES  BOOTH 


RODDY  MAKES  HIS  INITIAL  BOW 

One  of  the  most  important  bits  of  information  touch- 
ing the  escape  of  Booth  comes  from  Mr.  W.  P.  Carneal, 
postmaster  of  Lent,  near  the  Garrett  farm.  Here  the  first 
mention  of  the  name  Roddy  is  made,  except  in  the  Booth 
confession. "Bill  Rollins  and  a  man  named  Roddy  crossed 
the  river  with  Booth  and  Herold."  Mr.  Carneal  encloses 
the  only  statement  ever  made  by  any  member  of  the  Garrett 
household  which  will  through  this  volume  be  given  publicity 
for  the  first  time.  The  statement  is  from  William  Garrett, 
eldest  son,  who  was  an  "eye  witness"  as  well  as  an  "ear 
witness"  to  the  Garrett  home  affair  from  first  to  last. 

One  evening  a  while  before  dark,  says  Garrett,  a  couple 
of  men  on  horseback  and  in  Confederate  uniforms  came  to 
our  place,  having  with  them  another  young  man  who  had 
no  uniform  but  had  a  sore  leg.  They  wanted  the  crippled 
young  man  taken  in  until  arrangements  could  be  made  to 
get  him  a  place  of  safety.  At  first  father  didn't  want  to 
do  it,  but  the  Confederate  officers  said  they  would  see  that 
he  got  into  no  trouble,  so  the  young  man  was  taken  in  and 
the  two  calvarymen  paced  off  to  keep  picket  and  give  warn- 
ing if  any  federals  came  up,  so  the  crippled  man  told  us. 
He  stayed  in  the  kitchen  that  night  where  brother  Jack  and 
I  sleep.  The  next  evening  when  the  crippled  man  was  In 
the  front  yard  on  the  grass  the  two  cavalrymen  came  up 
as  fast  as  they  could,  said  something  about  they  must  get 
to  the  woods,  so  one  of  them  took  the  crippled  man  on  the 
horse  and  they  started  toward  the  heavy  woods  this  side 
of  the  Port.  One  of  the  cavalrymen  started  toward  Bowl- 
ing Green.  They  were  in  such  a  hurry  that  they  didn't 
say  goodbye  or  if  they  would  come  back.  That  night  broth- 
er Jack  and  I  kept  awake  much  of  the  time  thinking  the 
men  might  come  back,  and  father  told  us  not  to  let  any 
more  strangers  stay  there.  Awhile  before  day  when  it  was 
as  dark  as  charcoal  outside  I  heard  some  one  tap  on  the 
back  door.  I  crawled  out  of  bed  without  making  any  fuss 
because  I  didn't  want  to  wake  father  and  mother  who  were 
asleep  up  stairs.     So  I  opened  the  door  but  it  was  so  dark 


WANDERINGS  OF  J.  WILKES  BOOTH  69 


I  could  only  see  that  there  were  two  of  them  and  one  was 
larger  and  seemingly  older  by  his  voice,  but  the  younger 
one  done  most  of  the  talking.  He  said  they  had  come  a 
long  ways  on  foot  and  was  going  to  some  court  house  but 
was  too  tired  to  go  any  farther  without  rest,  and  they 
wanted  a  place  to  stay.  I  told  them  father  didn't  want  to 
let  any  strangers  stay  there,  but  if  they  would  be  careful 
and  not  wake  the  folks  they  could  stay  awhile.  They  said 
as  they  might  want  to  leave  at  any  moment  they  would 
prefer  some  outhouse  or  crib,  so  they  could  go  there  with- 
out disturbing  the  "old  folks"  as  they  called  them.  I  told 
Jack  to  not  for  anything  wake  father  and  mother  and  the 
men  would  be  gone  so  they  needn't  know  they  had  stayed 
there.  So  I  showed  the  strangers  to  the  crib.  It  was  so 
dark  you  could  not  see  your  hand  before  you,  but  I  knew 
the  place  so  well  I  found  the  crib  door  and  let  them  go  in 
where  there  was  hay  and  cornstalk  blades  for  them  to 
rest  on.  I  stopped  around  awhile  to  see  that  they  didn't 
take  the  horses  as  they  had  none.  Pretty  soon  I  heard  ft 
noise  at  the  house  and  hurried  there  where  a  lot  of  men 
in  Union  uniforms  and  one  of  them  an  officer  had  the 
door  open  demanding  that  a  light  be  lit  and  "that  damn'd 
quick,"  he  said.  Just  then  I  heard  mother  raise  the  upstairs 
window  and  ask  who  was  there  and  what  they  wanted.  "No 
matter  who  we  are — we  want  a  light."  Then  I  heard 
father  coming  down  stairs  and  he  lit  a  candle  and  when 
he  went  to  the  ooor  another  officer  came  up  and  said  "you 
have  some  one  in  here  and  we  want  him."  Father  tried 
to  tell  the  new  officer  that  there  had  been  a  man  there 
but  he  wouldn't  let  him.  "We  are  not  going  to  listen  to 
any  of  your  excuses,"  said  the  officer,  "where  is  he."  Then 
father  told  him  they  had  gone.  "Gone  where?"  said  the 
officer,  and  father  told  him  to  the  woods.  Then  brother 
Jack  began  ransacking  the  house  to  see  if  the  crippled  man 
had  come  back.  But  the  officer  grabbed  father  and  pulled 
him  on  the  porch  and  called  for  a  rope  and  said  he  would 
swing  him  to  one  of  the  sycamore  limbs.  I  then  told  them 
not  to  harm  father  and  I  would  tell  them.  "Father  is 
scared.  He  don't  know,"  I  said.  I  was  grabbed  by  the 
arm  like  all  savage  and  I  saw  I  had  to  tell  them  something, 
so  I  told  them,  "they  went  to  the  crib.  I'll  show  you  where 
they  are."  One  of  the  officers  took  the  candle  and  we 
went  to  the  crib,  but  it  was  dark  as  could  be  in  there  and 
not  a  sound.  Pretty  soon  there  was  a  rustle  in  the  fodder 
and  the  officer  said  I  must  go  in  and  tell  the  man  in  there 
to  give  up  his  arms  and  surrender.  I  didn't  want  to  go  but 
he  said  I  must,  and  he  called  to  the  man  in  there  that  he 
would  send  me  in  for  the  arms  and  he  must  surrender. 
Just    then    there    was    whispering,    showing    that    there    was 


70  WANDERINGS  OF  J.  WILKES  BOOTH 


more  than  one  in  there.     One  of  them  said  to  the  other  he 
could  "go  and  be  damned;  I  don't  want  you  here  any  way.'* 
As  soon  as  I  got  in  the  man  inside  snatched  up  something 
I  thought  was  a  gun  and  told  me  to  get  out,  that  I  had 
given  him   a   cold  deck,   or  something,   and  I   rushed   back 
to  the   door  and  told  them   the   men   in   there   were   armed 
to   the  teeth   and  would   shoot  me.     I   was  let   out   and  the 
officer  again  called  for  surrender  or  there  would  be  a  bon- 
fire and  a  shooting  match.     But  one  of  the  men  in  the  crib 
said:     "There  is  a  damned  young  fellow  in  here  who  wants 
to   give   himself   up.     As    for   me — I    want   time    to    study." 
The  officer  told  him  he  could  have  just  two  minutes.     Then 
one  of  the  men   inside  told  the   other  to   "go,  you  damned 
coward!     I  don't  know  you!     You  have  betrayed  me  and  I 
don't  want  you  to  stay."  and,  continues  the  statement,  "He 
kept  cursing  him  to   the  last."     About  this  time   some   one 
set  fire   to    some   hay   and   poked   it  through   a   crack    and 
almost  as  if  it  was  a  powder  house  the  whole  inside  of  the 
crib  was  ablaze,  and  for  the  first  time  the  men  inside  could 
be  seen,  although  they  could  see  those  outside.     One  of  the 
men   at   once  began   "running"   from   one   side   to  the   other 
looking  for   a  way  to   get   out   or   a  crack  to  pop   any   one 
who   got   in   the   way.     The   door  was  broke   open   and   one 
of  the  men  grabbed  the  young  man  and  piled  on  top  of  him 
and  was  dragging  him  out  when   some   one  shot  through   a 
crack   and  the   other  man   inside  bounded  toward   the   door 
and  fell  on  his  face.     In  an  instant  one  of  the  officers  was 
on  him  and  his  clothes  was  afire.     The  young  man  was  taken 
outside   and  tied  to   a   tree,   and  the   other   man   was   taken 
out  before  he  burned  and  carried  to  the  porch  and  put  on 
some  planks   with    an    old   coat   and   a   pillow   for   his   head. 
"Who  was  it  got  shot?"  asked  the  young  man  who  had  ffiven 
up.     "You    know   well    enough    who   it   was,"    answered    the 
officer.     "No,  I  do  not  know  who  it  was."     "Yes.  you  do," 
said    the    officer.     "You    know    it    is    Booth."     "No,    I    tell 
you,  I  don't  know  it  w.as  Booth,"  said  the  young  man.     "He 
told  me  his  name  was   Boyd."      (This  corroborates   a  state- 
ment made  by  Captain   Dougherty   with   the   addition   that: 
"Herold  told  me  afterw'ard  that  he   met  this  man   by  acci- 
dent  about   midnight   after  the   tragedy;   that  they   crossed 
the  Potomac   at   Mathias   Point  together."     Captain   Dough- 
erty  further  mentions  the  home   of  Dr.   Stewart   as  one   of 
the  stopping  places  of  the  fugitives.) 

The   statement   was   s'^-n'-d   bv   William   Garrett   in   the 
presence    of    Postmaster    Carneal. 

Now,   who   were  "they"   so   rften    referred   to? 


WANDERINGS  OF  J    WILKES  BOOTH 


71 


Captain  Jett  whose  word 
seemed  a  pledge  not  only  to 
the  pursuers,  but  also  to  the 
government,  he  being  a  wit- 
ness in  the  conspiracy  court 
to  identify  Herold,  states  that 
after  parting  with  Booth,  Her- 
old and  Roddy  at  the  ferry — 
Booth  and  the  two  lieutenants 
headed  for  Garrett's.  He 
{IllilHl  ^  ''%s^  ,^FWlL  "^^t  saw  Herold  the  following 
'/ //// /ll/^'\.  V^^^^Mwr    W' t*''*y   in    Bowling   Green   where 

he  remained  until  after  sup- 
per when  he  started  on  foot 
for  Garrett's.  "And  that  was 
the  last  I  saw  of  him,"  says 
the  Captain,  "until  next  morn- 
ing as  he  was  dragged  from 
a  barn  as  a  prisoner;  and  I 
then  recognized  him  as  the 
party  I  saw  with  Booth  while 
crossing  the  river,"  and  who 
I  saw  in  Bowling  Green  the 
next  day."  Did  the  captors  point  to  the  stretcher  and 
ask:  "Is  that  the  party  with  whom  you  saw  this  young 
man  at  the  ferry?"  They  did  not.  Captain  Jett  had 
pledged  to  tell  nothing  but  the  truth,  and  like  most  south- 
ern young  men,  that  word  was  considered  inviolate.  Sup- 
pose the  Captain  had  been  asked  to  identify  the  dead  man 
and  he  had  said:  "No.  That  is  not  the  man."  Blewey! 
Up  goes  glimmering  ever\'  gleam  of  promise  so  near  fulfill- 
ment. Glory  turned  loose  to  mingle  with  nil.  And  thnt 
"mount  of  laureat  lustre."  Leastwise,  Captain  Jett  was 
saved  the  embarrassment  of  having  to  choose  between  his 
pledge  to  thp  pursurers  and  iiis  pledge  to  see  tlie  crippled 
man  to  a  safe  harbor. 


And  referring  to  the  arrest  of  Captain  Jett  at  Bowling 
Green.  The  first  demand  was  that  he  reveal  the  where- 
abouts of  the  parties  he  had  helped  cross  the  river.  This 
was  embellished  by  the  polish  on  Conger's  gun.  "He  is  on 
the  road  to  Port  Royal,"  replied  the  Captain.  Then  as  if 
to  anticipate  any  embarrassing  query  such  as  "how  do  you 
know?"  he  side-stepped.  "I  thought  you  were  from  Rich- 
I'-id.  hut  if  you  came  by  the  Garrett  farm  you  may  have 
t", -^fi  Iv-,.  off."  Was  the  Captain  merely  stalling:  or  did 
he  in  t':\(t   Uncw?     May  it  not  be  that  while  either  Ruggles 


72  WAXDERIXGS  OF  J    WILKES  BOOTH 


or  Bainbridge  were  escorting  Booth  to  the  woods  the  other 
was  headed  for  Bowling  Green  to  post  the  Captain,  which 
could  easily  have  been  done  by  one  on  a  swift  horse  before 
the  arrest  of  Captain  Jett. 

In  summing  up  the  statement  of  young  Garrett  it  may 
seem  somewhat  significent  that  he  nowhere  uses  the  word 
■"cripple";  nor  of  any  tumbling  and  lunging  and  hobbling 
about  either  out  or  within  the  crib;  no  act  or  word  that  so 
much  as  suggests  a  "cripple".  No.  As  soon  as  the  fire 
started,  the  victim  began  "running"  from  first  one  side  to 
the  other.  Even  the  little  item  of  a  crutch,  let  alone  two 
of  them,  is  not  mentioned.  Before  him  arose  no  plume  of 
honors;  no  glint  of  gold,  all  hinging  upon  whether  the  man 
captured  was  Booth  "dead  or  alive."  The  sympathies  of 
the  young  man  were  all  on  the  side  of  the  southland,  and 
naturally  if  he  had  any  incentive  it  would  be  to  throw  the 
pursuers  off  the  track  and  stop  the  hunt  by  identifying  the 
man  on  the  porch  as  Booth.  Young  Garrett  did  hear  some- 
things. For  instance  he  heard  the  older  man  in  the  crib 
tell  the  other  to  "Go,  you  damned  coward!"  and  "he  kept 
cursing  him  to  the  last."  Does  this  sound  like  Booth  to 
who  many  think  that  smacked  of  the  vulgar  or  profane  was 
abomniable?  In  fact  that  was  a  family  trait  in  the  Booth 
household.  Doesn't  it  sound  more  like  a  river  man — a 
Roby,  or  a  Boyd,  for  instance?  "You  have  betrayed  me." 
Does  that  sound  like  Booth  in  branding  as  a  damned 
coward  one  who  had  stood  faithfully  by  him  through  thick 
and  thin.  Who  had  staked  all — honor,  position — his  very 
life,  having  just  then  abandoned  safety  within  the  Confed- 
erate lines  in  order  to  be  at  the  side  of  his  greatest  of  all 
friends — his  god-father,  as  it  were?  Such  expressions,  such 
suspicions  might,  not  seem  so  far-fetched  coming  from  a 
comparative  stranger  who  could  easily  imagine  that  he  had 
been  inveigled  into  the  jaws  of  death  to  make  vicarious 
sacrifice  that  a  bosom  friend  might  escape. 

Before  closing  reference  to  Mr.  Carneal's  letter:  Every 
effort  to  secure  trace  of  any  one  named  Roddy  or  Boyd  has 
been  disappointing.  In  answer  to  innumerable  letters  to 
old-timers  within  a  wide  radius  of  Ports  Royal  and  Conway 
and  Mathias  Point,  has  invariably  resulted  in  replies  that 
"Never  heard  of  any  one  going  by  either  of  these  names." 
The  name  of  Roddy  is  unknown,  unmentioned  until  receipt 
of  the  letter  from  Mr.  Carneal.  Now,  where  did  that  mys- 
tpri-n«  name  "Roddy"  come  from — ho^v  did  it  reach  tlie 
ear  of  the  immediate  Garrett  household?  It  could  not  have 
come  from  the  Booth  confession;  for  that  had  not  been 
given  to  the  public.  Booth  could  not  have  gotten  it  from 
the  Garrett's;  for  this  is  the  first  time  any  statement  from 
any  member  of  the  Garrett  house  has  ever  been  given  to  the 


WANDERINGS  OF  J.  WILKES  BOOTH  73 

public.  As  to  the  other  conjurable  name — Boyd.  In  an 
early  day  an  adventurer  named  Boyd — first  name  may  have 
been  Rodney — settled  on  a  ranch  in  the  then  wilderness  of 
Virginia  at  a  point  some  miles  below  Mathias  where  Booth, 
Herold  and  Boyd  crossed  the  Potomac.  But  he  has  long 
since  dropped  from  earth  and  his  name  from  memory. 
That  these  two  names  should  be  so  wholly  unknown  among 
old-timers  would  indicate  that  both  of  these  characters — 
if  indeed  thej'  were  not  one  and  the  same,  must  have 
dropped  out  as  suddenly  and  mysteriously  as  they  dropped 
in.  Again — where  could  young  Garrett  have  gotten  it  un- 
less it  was  drbpped  by  one  of  the  "two  strangers"  either 
before  or  after  entering  the  crib?  For  further  question 
let  the  distant  cavers   answer. 

Now,  honor  bright — who  among  all  those  giving  state- 
ments concerning  the  killing  at  the  Garrett  home  was  in 
better  shape  than  was  young  Garrett;  with  no  incentive 
save  to  give  acts  and  words  as  they  are  remembered  by  him 
without  varnish  or  evasion.  Before  him  no  vision  of  honor 
or  profit  loomed;  certainly  without  ambition  to  "see  his 
name  in  print,"  else  he  would  not  have  waited  so  long. 
No  incentive  of  the  most  precious  of  all  rewards — conscious- 
ness of  having  done  a  duty  to  receive  that  acclaim — "well 
done,  thou  good  and  faithful."  On  the  other  hand  here 
was  a  company  of  brave  and  daring  men  as  ever  donned 
a  uniform,  as  loyal  to  duty,  to  their  country  as  any  men 
on  earth,  not  a  fibre  in  the  make-up  of  one  of  them  that 
wasn't  of  pure  metal;  not  an  impulse  that  needed  either 
hope  of  honors  or  reward  to  stimulate  to  deeds  of  heroism, 
of  valor.  That  fabulous  rewards  were  in  waiting,  that 
honors  were  sure  to  those  who  should  avenge  the  death  of 
America's  most  beloved,  however  high  heaped  the  golded 
bushel,  as  a  stimulous  this  could  have  entered  only  uncon- 
sciously. Nor  should  be  held  lightly  the  long  and  arduous 
search  through  heat  and  all  kinds  of  inclement  weather, 
fatigued  to  the  verge  of  exhaustion.  "Vigilant  in  watch, 
"with  little  to  eat  and  less  sleep,"  so  worn-out  that  some  of 
them  "dropped  from  their  horses  to  rest  a  spell  on  the 
wayside  sands."  Their  only  conscious  stimulous  the  song 
of  victory  almost  in  hearing,  the  crown  of  honors  fairly 
within  grasp,  and  the  patriotic  acclaim  of  a  grateful  people, 
their  toil  and  sweating  all  at  an  end.  Yet  take  account: 
What  confusion,  what  a  heterogenious  conglomerate  scram- 
ble of  disorder,  every  man  a  general,  discipline  lost  in  the 
dense  of  that  "darkest  hour  before  day."  In  the  enemy's 
countrv  where  for  aught  they  knew  numbers  untold  were 
in  ambush.  At  least  one  desperate  man  with  his  life  at 
stake  and  armed  to  the  teeth,  in  that  crib  where  he  could 
pick    off   those    outside   by   the    candle   light    while    he    was 


74  WANDERINGS  OF  J.  WILKES  BOOTH 

invisible  to  them.  Stillness  vieing  in  its  awe  with  the  hush 
of  death;  no  sound,  scarcely  breathing  save  now  and  then  a 
low  murmur,  a  rustle  of  the  hay  beneath  the  shuffling  feet 
cautiously  feeling  a  way  for  some  chance  to  take  a  "leap 
in  the  dark,"  perhaps  take  a  shot  at  any  one  who  should 
happen  in  range.  Indeed,  what  scope  for  imagination  as 
these  tired  and  gaulded  men  circled  cautiously  aoout,  one 
dodging  here,  another  in  there,  each  for  self,  every  whisper 
of  the  winds,  every  rustle  of  the  forest  leaves  coming  up 
like  kelpy  voices  from  the  caverns  of  unfathomable.  Ordi- 
narily, testimony  given  in  harmony  and  exactness  by  sev- 
eral witnesses  et  literatum  and  in  situation  tends  to 
strengthen;  but  the  reverse  in  this  case.  That  all  the  var- 
ious "eye  v/itnesses"  on  the  government  side,  amid  such 
anxiety  and  confiusion  in  dense  darkness  as  wraiths  of  nights 
pipe  low  whisperings  add  dismal  to  the  weird,  should  tell 
their  stories  in  such  exact  harmony — smacks  rather  of  the 
conned  and  coached,  under  legal  skill. 


A   QUESTION    OF   IDENTITY 

"Yes,  but  didn't  Booth's  brother  and  John  Ford,  one  of 
his  most  intimate  friends,  identify  the  body  buried  at  Green 
Mound  Cemetery  as  John  Wilkes  Booth?"  Of  course  they 
did.  Up  to  that  time  there  was  a  growing  belief  that  seem- 
ed fast  becoming'  universal  that  Booth  was  not  killed  at 
the  Garrett  home.  Thousands  of  vigilant  eyes  were  on  the 
watch,  thousands  of  man-hunters  were  ready  with  vulture 
greed  to  pounce  upon  him  if  still  alive;  some  for  the  re- 
puted fabulous  rewards,  some  for  the  "honor,"  some  be- 
cause they  liked  the  smell  of  human  blood.  Suppose  that 
body  had  not  been  identified  as  that  of  Booths?  What 
was  more  natural  than  that  the  family  and  his  immediate 
friends  would  say  to  the  world:  "Call  off  your  sleuths  for 
Booth  is  dead."  There  were  at  least  two  "eye-witnesses" 
whose  consciences  were  too  tender  for  trusting;  that  might 
if  they  didn't  think  it  was  Booth,  say  so — Clara  Morris  and 
Blanche  Chapman,  both  of  whom  had  been  on  the  stage 
with  Booth.  To  these  the  injunction  "After  you  have  seen 
put  vour  fingers  to  your  lips  and  keep  mum."  And  they 
did  even  as  enjoined,  except  that  Clara  Morris  simply 
shook  her  head,  with:  "Poor  unfortunate  John  Wilkes 
Booth;  so  kind,  so  full  of  hope  and  promise.  Of  course  I 
can  not  condone  his  rash  act;  but  it  wasn't  him;  it  was 
the  spirit  of  those  higher  up,  of  influence  and  of  baser  de- 
signs who  knew  his  dauntless  courage,  his  fidelity  to  any 
trust  imposed  on  him."  And  again  shaking  her  head 
"these  are  the  real  assassins.  Booth  was  but  the  instru- 
ment in  their  hands." 


WANDERINGS  OF  J.  WILKES  BOOTH  75 

SEEMS    UNTHINKABLE 

In  the  opinion  of  the  writer  one  of  the  weak  points  in 
the  Texas  confession  is  where  Booth  makes  the  direct 
charge  that  he  received  his  first  impulse  to  other  than 
kidnap  the  President  only  a  few  hours  before  the  fatal  shot', 
from  a  party  named.  For  details,  see  page  19.  It  may  be 
that  he  got  his  first  idea  of  killing  at  the  conference  stated 
in  the  confession.  In  fact,  there  is  a  preponderence  of 
evidence  that  up  to  that  time  kidnapping  was  the  only 
thing  ever  hinted  by  Booth  to  his  co-conspirators  or  any 
one  else,  not  even  to  his  closest  confident.  As  to  the  con- 
ference referred  to,  that  is  not  among  the  unthinkables, 
for  it  is  in  evidence  that  only  a  short  time  before  the  hour 
designated,  the  private  secretary  of  the  party  referred  to 
delivered  him  a  card  on  which' appeared:  "Don't  want  to 
disturb  you.  Are  you  at  home?"  Signed  J.  Wilks  Booth 
in  his  recognized  hand-writing.  But  what  transpired,  the 
purpose  and  results  of  that  conference,  if  indeed  it  was 
more  than  a  mere  friendly  call — that  is  something  differ- 
ent. Such  a  meeting  should  not  be  construed  as  strange, 
for  it  may  be  noted  that  Booth's  great  versatility,  his  en- 
tertaining ways  and  attractive  personality  insured  him  ac- 
cess to  the  best  of  homes  and  gave  him  companionship 
with  the  elite  including  the  most  eminent  union  statesmen 
regardless  of  the  well-known  sympathies  of  him  with  the 
South.  Even  Union  army  officers  were  not  averse  to  mix 
in  with  the  clever  artist  and  mingle  toasts  over  the  bar, 
not  infrequently  until  tongues  took  on  strange  activity,  a 
condition  not  so  much  under  the  ban  of  censure  then  as  in 
later  years.  And  in  such  condition,  men  were  liable  to 
say  strange  things,  do  strange  things — which  would  not 
for  a  moment  have  found  utterance  or  action  in  sober 
moments.  It  is  not  always  true  that  persons  do  and 
say  only  the  things  they  think  when  sober.  More  often 
quite  the  contrary.  Disease  is  but  a  branch  or  element  in 
nature  which  invariably  seeks  way  of  least  resistance.  In- 
toxication is  a  disease  and  nature-like  seeks  way  of  least 
resistance  in  its  attacks  on  the  faculties  of  the  patient, 
stilling  first  the  weakest  or  easiest  to  resist  and  then  the 
next,  and  so  on  until  the  weaker  faculties  have  been  "put 
to  sleep"  giving  the  pre  predominating  one  full  sway.  It 
that  trends  to  music,  the  patient  wants/  to  sing;  if  com- 
batativeness  he  wants  to  fight;  if  amativeness  he  wants  to 
fondle  over  you,  etc.  It  may  be  possible  that  "drink  of 
strong  brandy"  referred  to  in  the  confession  with  others 
"before  and  after"  got  in  its  work  of  "putting  to  sleep" 
the  conservative  faculties  and  the  very  words  said  to  have 
given  Booth  his  first  notion  of  killingj  may  have  been  ut- 
tered— words  that  in  sober  moments  would  have  choked. 


76  WANDERINGS  OF  J.  WILKES  BOOTH 

Booth  was  in  no  sense  trivial  but  very  much  matter  of 
fact,  taking  everything  seriously;  hence  took  these  maud- 
lings  to  heart  as  if  really  meant  and  acted  upon  the  ir- 
reverent hint. 

It  was  an  open  secret  if  not  more  that  the  most  perfect 
amity  did  not  exist  between  Mr.  Lincoln  and  the  Vice- 
President,  which  is  indexed  by  a  single  incident:  One  day 
as  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Lincoln  were  walking  down  Pennsylvania 
Avenue  the  Vice-President  was  noticed  some  distance  be- 
hind coming  in  the  same  direction.  "Why  is  that  fellow  for- 
ever  following  me?"  remarked  Mr.  Lincoln  with  a  frown. 
Many  of  the  most  eminent  statesmen  of  the  Union  side  had 
no  use  for  the  vice-president,  partically,  perhaps,  because 
he  was  a  southern  man,  but  probably  most  out  of  partizan- 
ship  on  behalf  of  the  chief  executive.  This  feeling  found 
emphatic  expression  through  impeachment  proceedings 
wherein  the  vote  of  either  Senator  Ross  of  Kassas  or 
Trumbull  of  Illinois,  both  republicans,  would  have  hurled 
the  new  president  from  his  chair  in  humility  and  disgrace. 
And  so  strong  was  that  feeling  toward  the  president  that 
the  two  republicans  who  refused  to  vote  "guilty,"  signed 
their  death-warrant.  It  may  be  pertinent  to  here  state  that 
Mr.  Lincoln  also  had  his  enemies — not  confined  to  south- 
ern people,  but  many  of  the  big  fellows  of  his  own  side  had 
no  use  for  him  politically — those  who  expected  to  reap  a 
great  harvest  by  despoliation  of  the  conquered  states,  felt 
that  Lincoln  would  prove  a  Gibralter  between  them  and 
that  spoliation.  They  feared  him  because  of  the  wonder- 
ful hold  he  had  on  the  people — in  fact  no  ruler  was  more 
beloved  and  revered  by  the  subjects  of  any  country.  That 
these  profiteering  adventurers  would  go  to  the  length  of 
counternancing  any  rash  measures  in  getting  him  out  of 
the  way  is  scarcely  believable;  but  that  he  was  in  their 
road  is  more  than  open  secret.  Again,  his  hold  upon  the  af- 
fections of  the  people  was  a  source  of  jealousy  that  was 
more  than  casually  observed.  That  there  were  "enemies 
within  the  ranks"  was  hinted  by  a  number  whose  state- 
ments in  regard  to  the  difficulties  with  which  the  govern- 
ment had  to  contend  in  its  pursuit  of  the  fugitives  were 
given. 

Now  as  to  the  change  which  Booth  claimed  "came  over 
the  spirit  of  his  dreams,"  that  soon  after  the  mystic  hour  of 
the  last  conference  at  the  Kirkwood  on  the  evening  of  the 
tragedy.  Booth  sent  for  his  co-conspirators  to  meet  him  at 
the  Herndon,  where  for  the  first  time  the  first  hint  of  kill- 
ing was  given;  that  the  attempt  to  kidnap  on  March  18  had 
failed,  and  Richmond  now  being  under  Federal  control 
making  the  plot  to  kidnap  impossible,  he  decided  to  change 
the  plan  to  that  of  killing  the  President.  This  suggestion 
seems  to  have  come  to  Aztferodt  and  Payne  like  a  thunder 


WANDERINGS  OF  J.  WILKES  BOOTH  77 


clap  from  a  clear  sky.  After  a  round  at  the  bar  of  bane 
as  If  to  clear  away  the  fog,  these  co-conspiratois,  each  put 
In  a  flat  veto — they  had  agreed  to  aid  in  capture  but  not 
to  kill.  "All  right,"  said  Booth.  "I  wili  do  the  job  alone, 
but  I  want  you  to  have  one  more,  and  perhaps,  last  drink 
together."  Payne  declined,  but  Azterodt — was  never 
known  by  his  closest  friends  to  decline.  Meantime  young 
Payne,  then  only  eighteen  years  old,  sought  a  quiet  corner 
to  himself.  Now,  thi^  poor  devil  of  a  George  A.  Azterodt 
was  only  a  common  boat-maker  of  Port  Tobacco  by  .which 
name  he  was  generally  known,  considered  harmless  as  he 
was  worthless.  He  had  three  distinct  yet  blending  char- 
acteristics— inordinate  cowardice,  inordinate  boasting 
when  full  to  a  certan  degree,  of  what  all  he  wasn't  afraid 
to  do;  and  of  an  inordinate!  tasts  for  squirrel  whisky,  and 
of  never  letting  up  when  once  on  the  tank  wagon  until  too 
full  for  utterance,  let  alone  action.  Another  round  at  this 
bar  and  Azterodt  was  at  the  boasting  point;  but  neverthe- 
less, when  Booth  said  to  him  :  "I  have  decided  that  you 
shall  take  care  of  the  Vice-President,"  the  spirit  of  bravo 
gave  way  to  its  opponent  and  there  was  another  flat  "No, 
siree.  No  killin'  for  me,  and  I  jist  won't  da  it."  But  when 
told  that  he  would  be  hung  anyway,  Aterrodt  manifested 
that  he  could  stand  one  more  "last  drink  together."  After 
which  Booth  took  leave,  while  Azterodt  proceeded  to  forti- 
fy himself  by  staggering  out  and,  to  use  his  own  words, 
"wanered  over  the  city  taking  a  fresh  drink  at  ever^-  cor- 
ner and  between."  He  then  gave  his  routing — from  the 
Hemdon  to  the  Kirkwood  just  long  enough  tr  take  one 
more;  thence  to  "Oyster  Bay,"  where,  it  appears  he  was  at 
the  time  the  fatal  shot  was  fired — many  blocks  from  the 
scene;  "thence  to  the  Union;  thence  to  the  Kimmel; 
thence  to  the  stock  yards  where  I  hoped  to  get  a  bunk  with 
my  friend  Brisco,  but  failed.  I  then  went  back  to  the  Kim- 
mel and  tumbled  in  about  two  o'clock  in  the  morning." 
Being  dead  broke,  he  left  without  paying  the  bill  and  car- 
ried the  key  to  stave  off  discovery  of  his  absence.  At 
Georgetown  he  pawned  his  pistol  for  ten  dollars  and  went 
out  to  stay  with  his  cousin  in  Montgomery  county,  some 
miles  out.  There  he  busied  himself  doing  chores  and  work- 
ing in  the  garden  with  no  attempt  at  hiding  or  of  avoiding 
being  seen.  He  was  there  arrested  on  the  19th  by  Provost 
McPhail  and  Wells  to  whom,  on  pledge  of  reprieve,  he 
made  a  full  breast  of  his  part  in  the  plot  from  start  to  fin- 
ish. He  was  hung,  however,  along  with  Mrs.  Surratt, 
Payne  and  Herold.  There  being  no  substantial  evidence 
against  Dr.  Mudd  except  that  he  dressed  a  wounded  man's 
leg,  and  scarcely  a  particle  of  evidence  against  Sam  Ar- 
nold, Ed  Spangler,  except  that  he  was  shoving  scenes  on 
the  stage  when  the  shot  was  fired,  and  Mike  McLaughlin, 


78 


WANDERIXGS  OF  J.  WILKES  BOOTH 


except  that  he  had  been  seen  in  company  with  Booth  as 
thousands  of  others  had,  they  were  let  off  with  terms  "at 
hard  labor  at  Dry  Tortugus."  John  H.  Surratt  was  some- 
where In  Canada  about  that  time,  but  subsequently  return- 
ed and  gave  himself  up,  receiving  a  term  in  prison.  ' 


Jefferson    Davis 


Andrew    Johnson 


Of  course,  the  adroit  and  resourceful  lawyer  might 
take  the  circumstances  of  Booth's  card,  the  fact  that  the 
vice-president  was  in  his  room  punctuallj'  at  about  half- 
past  four  and  kept  close  to  it  until  some  time  after  the  fa- 
tal hour,  leaving  it  but  once,  about  time  for  7  o'clock  lunch 
and  a  nightcap — putting  this  and  that  together,  including 
the  personal  interest  at  stake  as  well  as  the  supposed  safe- 
ty of  the  south  from  spoliation  the  adroit  lawyer  might 
weave  quite  a  web.  Also,  that  the  universal  reputation  '^f 
Azterodt  as  an  inordinate  coward  when  in  physical  condi- 
tion, and  an  inordinate  bravado  when  too  full  to  act,  he 
would  be  just  such  an  instrument  one  would  assign  a  job 
he  didn't  want  done,  and  feel  sure  it  would  not  be  done. 
That  is  order  to  still  suspicion  then  rife  to  some  extent,  the 
gate-post  must  be  marked  to  make  it  appear  the  party  was 
slated  as  one  of  the  victims  instead  of  being  one  of  the 
conspirators.  That  Booth  well-knowing  the  superb  fitness 
of  Azterodt  as  a  gate-marker  with  loud  letters,  and  that  he 
could  be  relied  upon  to  tank  to  the  paralizing  point  in  the 
shortest  possible  time,  the  assignment  to  "take  care  of  the 


WANDERINGS  OF  J    WILKES  BOOTH  79 


vice-president  "  was  left  to  him.  Powell  alias  Payne — he 
kept  his  own  counsel,  but  meantime  the  fires  of  patriotism 
from  his  standpoint  were  burning.  The  blood  of  two 
brothers  killed  by  the  "yankees"  was  still  crying  out:  "Re- 
venge! Revenge!"  From  the  tryst  he  made  his  way  and 
bided  the  time  he  deemed  as  the  propitious  moment,  and 
then  the  story  of  his  attack  on  Secretai-y  Seward  is  too 
thoroughly  known  in  history  to  need  repeating  here. 


A  PRESUMPTION  ON  THE  CRUELITY  OF  MAN 

The  solemn  trudge  on  the  way  from  Bowling  Green  to 
the  Garrett  farm  was  described  as  a  gloomy  and  fatiguing 
one  of  darkness  and  stifling  dust — moonless  and  starless; 
so  dark  that  although  the  road  was  the  main  traveled  thor- 
oughfare from  Bowling  Green  to  the  Rappahannock,  it 
was  so  dark  the  horses  were  given  the  rein  to  follow  the 
trail  as  best  they  could.  So  dark  that  one  of  the  party  had 
to  get  off  his  horse  and  "feel  his  way"  to  the  gate  of  the 
lane  leading  to  the  house.  In  fact,  so  dark  the  party  didn't 
know  they  were  near  the  gate  until  they  "were  up  against 
it."  It  was  that  "darkest  hour  before  day"  when  the  party 
arrived  in  front  of  the  house.  It  was  so  dark  that  the  out- 
lines of  the  crib-prison  could  scarcely  be  traced  except 
under  search-light  of  a  lone  candle  which  Col.  Baker  held 
in  his  hand.  So  dark  that  when  Herold  got  out  he  whisp- 
ered to  Baker  to  "put  out  the  candle  or  he'll  see  to  shoot 
you  by  it."  Dark,  pitchy  darkness  when  the  dying  man  was 
carried  to  the  house,  and  a  single  candle  was'  the  only  ray 
of  light.  There  is  no  evidence  that  the  usual  invitation  for 
"friends  to  pass  by  and  view  the  deceased,"  was  extended. 
Instead,  Capt.  Dougherty  says,  he  immediately  sewed  the 
dead  body  up  in  a  blanket,  which,  "as  soon  as  light  enough 
to  see"  was  dumped  into  a  wagon  and  trundled  to  the 
wharf  to  be  put  aboard  boat  for  Washington  City.  Another 
thing  worth  repeating:  Not  one  of  those  at  the  capture  had 
ever  seen  Booth  except  Conger,  who  at  one  time  got  a 
glimpse  of  him  while  bowing  to  a  curtain  call  at  the  Ford 
when  it  was  crowded  to  its  utmost  capacity.  And  even  then 
it  was  not  Booth  the  citizen,  but  a  bewigged,  powered,  be- 
whiskered  stage-made  character  in  costume  of  antique 
ages;  Vissar  crowned,  pomp  and  strut  of  ancient  knight- 
hood. In  fact  in  disguise  as  complete  as  stage-art  could 
conceive.  To  claim  that  the  body  Dougherty  sewed  up  in 
a  blanket  was  in  any  way  a  protype  of  the  stage-made  char- 
acter of  centuries  back  is  too  preposterous  for  considera- 
tion. The  facts  are:  they  supposed  they  "had  him  treed." 
The  trappings  found  on  the  body  of  the  victim,  it  was  but 
natural  to  take  it  for  granted  that  it  was  Booth.     And  right 


80  WANDERINGS  OF  J.  WILKES  BOOTH 


here  note:   It  was  brought  out  as  a  port  of  tlie  evidence 
against  Herold  that  at  least  a  portion  of  these  same  trap- 
pings was  found  in  Herold's  coat  pockets  at  the  Kirkwood 
next  day  after  the  tragedy.     Might  it  not  be  reasoned  that 
Herold  had  taken  charge  of  the  other  Booth  belongings — 
more  secured  from   the   Darky   Lucas'   wagon   and   while  in 
the  crib,  before  surrendering,  he  decided  to  shift  them  into 
the  pockets  of  the  man  who  he  said  was  a  stranger  to  him, 
so  these  incriminating  trappings  might  not  be  found  on 
his    person?    Besides,    except   the   bill    of   exchange   that 
might  not  have  been  found  on  any  desperate  man:   knife, 
pair  of  pistols,  belt,  holstei',  cartridges,  pipe  and  carbine. 
They  were  expecting  to  see  Booth,  and  that  expectancy 
became  father  of  the  decision  that  it  was  Booth.  But  it  was 
not   Booth    Conger   saw   through    star-dimmed   eyes    by   the 
famt  flicker  of  a  lone  candle  as  he  looked  down  into  the 
distorted  face  of  agonizing  death,  a  ghostly  visage  grimed 
and   sooted,    seered    and    singed,    reddened    eyes    in    dying 
glare   half   closed,   and   brows   furrowed   with   that   dread 
siege  of  awful  suspense,  hair  singed,  blood-clotted  and  dis- 
heveled,  the    last   words    gurgling  up   through   a  clogging 
throat — those  sweetest  of  all  words  "Tell  Mother—"  the 
blue   lips    quivering   and    the    body   writhing   beneath   the 
weight  of  chains  that  bound  it  oni  the  rack  of  excruciable 
torture.     To  identify  such  a  picture  of  limp  inanimate  clay 
In  citizen  garb  from  a  mere  glimpse  of  an  ancient  agile 
king  in  costume  no  human  being  had  ever!  worn  for  cen- 
turies,  seems  unthinkable.     Such  evidence   would   be   dis- 
credited in  any  court  between  that  great  highest  trihunnal 
where  love  and  mercy  rules,  and  the  lowest  court  of  hades 
where  sightless  eyes  glance,  from  grim  sockets,  and  phos- 
phorescent shades  in  appearance  sway  before  the  rushing 
gu-t-   rf  b,,,,.-^-,-  'uries  as  souls  a  sultry  penance  fry  for 
sins  born  of  the  flesh. 

*It  was  stated  that  every  heart  heaved  with  compassion 
and  every  eye  was  dimmed  with  tears— not  of  condone- 
ment,  but  of  pity  at  the  gruesome  scene  of  a  mortal  body  in 
the  last  throes  of  pains  at  parting  with  its  immortal  soul- 
companion  of  over  half  a  century,  the  last  throb  of  expir- 
ing hopes,  all  dreams  of  fancied  "honors"  vanished. 

If  indeed  that  was  Booth's  body  taken  to  Baltimore  for 
re-interment  the  noted  dramatic  artist  must  also  have  been 
up  in  the  "black  art,"  for  did  it  not  while  down  in  that 
dark  grave  in  the  old  jail  shift  the  blanket  in  which  Dough- 
erty sewed  it  up  for  a  prince-albert  and  other  presentable 
togs?  And  did  not  that  boot  which  Dr.  Mudd  took  from 
the  wounded  leg  perform  the  "feet"  of  being  on  exhibition 
at  the  Smithsonian  Institute  and  at  the  same  moment 
"come  off  with  the  foot"  at  the  Baltimore  morgue?     Veri- 


WANDERINGS  OF  J    WILKES  BOOTH  81 

ly  for,  "ways  that  are  dark"  and  trickS(  that  would  make 
old  Loki  as  a  toad  seem  common-place,  that  jail  birdi  was 
peculiar. 


THE    RAPPAHANNOCK    FERRY 

Captain  Willie  S.  Jett  belonged  to  the  Ninth  Va.  caval- 
ry, Mosby's  command,  and  had  just  been  appointed  Con- 
federate commissary  agent  and  was  on  his  way  from  Fau- 
quier to  headquarters  in  Caroline  county.  At  Bowling 
Green  he  was  joined  by  Lieuts.  A.  M.  Bainbridge  and  R.  B. 
Ruggles,  also  of  Mosby's  command.  At  the  Rappahannock 
ferry  near  Port  Conway,  and  owned  by  Bill  Dawson  but 
operated  by  a  man  named  Jim  Thornton,  they  were  met 
by  Herold,  who  first  gave  his  name  as  Boyd,  and  saying 
his  brother  had  been  wounded  in  a  skirmish  near  Peters- 
burg and  wanted  to  be  taken  across  the  lines.  On  being 
told  that  his,  Jett's  party,  had  not  just  then  the  facilities, 
Herold  gave  his  right  name  and  begged  that  his  "bother" 
be  taken  to  some  safe  place  until  arrangements  to  get  with- 
in Mosby's  lines  could  be  made.  Just  then  a  man  dragged 
out  of  an  old  wagon  and  it  was  noticed  he  had  a  crutch. 
Herold  then  in  an  excited  tone  stated:  "We  are  the  assas- 
sins of  the  President."  Then  pointing:  "Yonder  is  John 
Wlkes  Booth  who  shot  the  President."  Booth  then  hob- 
bled up  and  was  introduced.  Another  man  came  up  and 
was  introduced  as  (the  real)  Boyd. 

Jett  says  he  left  the  others  on  the  boat  and  rode  to 
Port  Royal  where  he  hoped  to  find  a  place  for  the 
"wounded  Confederae,"  as  he  was  to  represent  Booth.  Af- 
ter a  number  of  unsucessful  efforts,  Jett  called  at  the  home 
of  Capt.  Catlipt,  but  he  was  out  of  the  city.  Jett  then  re- 
turned to  the  boat  and  they  all  crossed  the  river,  Booth 
on  Ruggles'  horse. 

On  noticing  that  his  new  friends  wore  Confederate 
uniforms!  Booth  asked  as  to  their  command  at  which  Rug- 
gles replied  that  they  belonged  to  Mosby's  command.  On 
being  asked  as  to  where  he  belonged.  Booth  replied  that 
he  was  a  member  of  A.'  P.  Hill's  Corps.  Jett  says  he  no- 
ticed the  letters  "J.  W.  B."  on  Booth's  hand. 

After  landing,  Booth  had  a  hasty  talk  with  the  man 
giving  his  name  as  Boyd,  when  the  latter  started  to  re- 
cross  the  river.  Jett  says  that  after  directing  Herold 
and  his  companion  to  go  to  the  home  of  a  Mrs.  Clark  not 
far  out  from  Bowling  Gree,  he  went  to  that  City. 
Next  day  Herold  and  the  other  party  reached  Bowling 
Green,  remaini"<?  until  evening  when  they  left  for  the  Gar- 
rett homp  w^-ere  they  expected  to  find  Booth.  That  was 
the  la^-t  Je\f  9,r\w  of  e'ther  of  them  until  as  a  prisoner  he 


82  WANDERINGS  OF  J.  WILKES  BOOTH 


saw  Herold,  also  as  a  prisoner,  at  the  Garrett  home.  As 
he  left  the  ferry,  Jett  says  Ruggles  and  Bainbridgej  as  per 
arrangements  started  with  Booth  for  the  Garrett  home 
about  three  and  a  half  miles  out  on  the  Bowling;  Green 
road.  (Jett's  arrest  at  Bowling  Green  given  on  another 
page.) 

Miss  Dora  C.  Jett  of  Fredericksburg  is  a  daughter  of 
the  late  J.  B.  Jett,  who  for  a  number  of  years  presided  as 
judge  at  Stafford,  Va.,  but  subsequently  resigned  and 
went  to  St.  Paul,  Minn.,  where  he  died  several  years  ago. 
In  a  letter,  Miss  Jett  says  that  although  Captain  Jett  re- 
sided in  the  same  Westmoreland  county,  relationship  be- 
tween the  two  families  was  never  established. 

The  writer  had  the  pleasure  of  meeting]  Judge  Jett  in 
company  with  Col.  Lawson  who  had  Confederate  command 
at  the  Battle  of  Fredericksburg,  but  then  returning  from 
the  unveiling  of  the  Lee  monument  at  Richmond  which  the 
write*  also  witnessed.  He  found  both  of  these  gentlemen 
courteous  and  companionable,  and  above  all,  taking  the  de- 
feat of  their  southland  philosophically,  ready  to  bury  all 
prejudices  and  take  those  who  contended  against  them  by 
the  hand  once  more  in  a  spirit  of  brotherhood. 


DO   DREAMS    SOMETIMES   COME   TRUE? 

The  writer  had  been  busy  from  just  after  supper  until 
a  late  hour  of  the  night  wading  through  the  day's  accu- 
•  mualtion  of  letters  mosting  in  reply  to  inquiries  concerning 
the  Booth  matter.  Finally  after  the  last  of  the  bulk  had 
been  glanced  over  he  fell  into  a  brief  dose  in  which  Old 
Somner  began  grinding  out  "In  reply  to  yours"  by  fits  and 
starts  of  waking  and  again  dropping  into  the  vista  of  Mr. 
Som.  About  the  only  "reply  to  yours"  due  but  not  yet 
received  was  a  letter  addres.sed  to  "Mr.  Pittman,  Fishhook 
Bend,  Miss."  However,  as  he  had  subsequently  discovered 
that  there  was  no  postoffice  at  Fishhook  Bend,  he  scarcely 
expected  his  letter  so  directed  would  ever  reach  its  destina- 
tion. But  try  all  he  could  to  dismiss  the  whole  Booth 
matter  with  its  replying  "to  yours,"  the  ghost  would  not 
down,  but  kept  stalking  like  an  intruding  shacJow  in  his 
dreams.  Finally  one  came — a  real  fairly  well  arranged 
epistle  for  one  from  dreamland]  It  was,  as  seen  in  that 
dream  letter  on  coarse  print  paper  in  pencil,  rather  shaky 
hand,  and  slightly  disconnected  by  the  fits  and  starts  of  a 
moment's  rousing  from  the  dream  spell,  to  be  taken  up 
when  the  spell  again  came  on.  This  dream  letter  went  on 
to  say  that  the  writer  of  it  had  "received  yours,  and  in 
reply,"  etc.     To  quote  by  filling  in  to  make  connection  com- 


WANDERINGS  OF  J.  WILKES  BOOTH  83 


plete,  "I  got  the  letter  which  I  suppose  was  meant  for  me, 
but  was  not  surprised  except  as  to  how  you  came  to  single 
me  out.  Only  a  short  time  ago  I  saw  a  paper  in  which 
was  a  picture  that  called  up  a  long  time  ago  when  I  saw 
the  same  face  though  not  a  mere  paper  one.  My  father 
was  named  Walter  Pittman,  but  ususlly  called  "Pitt,"  and 
when  he  died  and  left  me  a  little  tad  just  beginning  to 
toddle  his  brother  took  me  down  to  the  river  where  he 
lived  in  a  hole  in  the  bank  and  had  some  canoes  and  a  log 
raft  taking  people  across  when  the  river  was  too  full  to 
ford.  I  only  had  one  playmate  of  near  my  size,  a  little 
colored  river  boy,  and  we  had  heaps  of  fun  in  its  way.  I 
would  sit  '^Mose"  on  a  hill  of  sand  and  throw  mud  balls 
at  him,  never  failing  to  hit  him  square  between  the  eyes 
when  he  would  tumble  on  his  back,  then  sit  up  again  as  if 
on  springs,  shake  his  head  and  roll  his  eyes  and  smile  as 
he  waited  for  another  blow.  He  did  the  throwing  a  couple 
of  times  but  hit  me  only  once,  and  then  I  didn't  set  up 
again  like  I  was  on  springs,  but  waited  for  him  to  shake 
the  life  into  me.  One  evening  two  men  came  to  the  river 
on  horseback.  One  of  them  had  on  a  grey  uniform  and 
had  all  kinds  of  guns  and  revolvers  and  belted  knives  until 
he  looked  like  an  arsenal  on  horseback.  He  was  a  grim 
looking  fellow  silent  as  a  sphynx.  The  other  had  on  a 
rather  slouched  black  hat  and  a  cloak  that  gattiered  at  the 
throat  and  when  he  got  off  of  the  horse  it  reached  almost 
to  the  sand.  He  was  such  a  fine  looking  young  man  with 
keen  black  eyes,  black  silky  hair  and  mustache,  just  such 
a  face  as  the  one  in  that  paper.  He  took  a  step  or  ?o 
toward  me  and  walked  as  if  he  had  a  sore  foot;  then  he 
reached  out  and  took  my  hand  in  his  and  it  was  white  and 
velvety  as  a  woman's,  and  his  voice  was  so  mild  and  kind 
that  I  wasn't  afraid.  After  wiping  my  face  he  gathered 
me  up  and  gave  me  the  first  kiss  I  ever  had  after  my 
mother  died  and  that  was  when  I  was  too  young  to  remem- 
ber. Then  he  asked  'if  there  was  any  place  around  where 
he  could  get  some  whisky.  But  before  I  could  speak,  father 
came  up  from  the  bank  as  wet  as  though  he  had  been 
bathing  with  his  clothes  on,  but  he  just  gave  a  shake  of  his 
body  and  was  as  dry  as  the  stranger  seemed  to  be.  '  Father 
told  him  that  the  only  way  to  get  any  whisky  was  to  catch 
a  fish  that  had  been  baited  with  the  stuff  and  squeeze  it 
out.  At  this  the  stranger  smiled  and  replied:  "For  the 
love  of — show  me  the  fish !"  Just  then  he  reached  way 
down  into  a  pocket  in  his  cloak  as  if  he  was  going  to  pull 
something  out.  "What,  have  you  got  arms  on  you,"  father 
asked  with  an  air  of  astonishment.  The  stranger  jerked 
both  hands  from  under  the  cloak  and  swinging  them  in  the 
air:     "Do   I   look   as   if  I   had   no    arms?"     One   hand    was 


84 WANDERINGS  OF  J.  WILKES  BOOTH 

empty,   but   in    the    other   was    a    big    cane.     Then    came    a 
deep  shadow  over  his  face  and  as  he  put  his  arms  under 
the  cloak  and  settled  back  on  his  feet  holding  the  cloak  so 
that  the  folds  lapped  in   front,   as  he  fairly  pierced   father 
through  with  searching  eyes.     Just  then  a  long  fish  started 
to  climb  a  stake  that  stood  a  ways  out  from  the  shore  to 
which  a  canoe  was  fastened.     Quick  as  a  flash  the  stranger 
raised  one  hand   still   under  the   cloak   and   said   excitedly: 
"There's  the  fish!     Just  see  how  straight  I  can  shoot  with- 
out "arms."     Bang!  and  the  fish   fell  over  into  the  canoe. 
"My   God!"   exclaimed   the   stranger.     What  have   I   done?" 
With  this  he  made  a  lunge  for  the  canoe  and  gathered  me 
up  in  his  arms  and  began  smothing  back  my  hair.     Turning 
to    father    who   was   in    grins    over   the   joke    and   with    im- 
ploring hand:     "Before  my  maker  I  thought  it  was  a  fish!" 
Just  then  there  was  a  sharp   report  followed  by   a  slowly 
dying  rumble   like   the   echo   of   a   cannon   against  the   far 
hillsides.     A  sudden  crash.     And  the  writer  rose  to  a  sit- 
ting posture  in  the  bed  and  began  rubbing  his  eyes  to  be 
sure  he  was  alive,  and  if  so,  awake,  when  there  was  another 
slight  clap  accompanied  by  a  faint  flash,  and  he  could  see 
the   rain  drops  strike  the  window  pane,   but  soon  the  sky 
was  clear.     The  writer  refuses  to  admit  that  he  believes  in 
dreams,  and  yet  he  never  awoke  from  a  pleasant  one  with- 
out  feeling  more  at  ease  than  if  it  had  been  of  the  horror  kind. 
Believe  or  not  in  dreams,  that  dream  letter  like  the  ghost 
of  night   referred   to   would   not   down.     It  kept   intruding 
with  its  weird  story  on  flat  coarse  print  paper  written  with 
a  fiat   hand,   from   somewhere.     Although   not   expecting   a 
reply    to   the    Pittman   letter   the    writer   confesses    to    dis- 
appointment at  not  finding  one  on  his  return  to  the  office. 
However,  a  later  mail  brought  a  number  of  "answers,"  and 
among  them  to  the  writer's  surprise,  one  was  postmarked — 
not  at  Fishhook  Bend,  but  "From  Walter  Pittmann,  Beula, 
Miss."     On   reading   the   letter   which   to   the   writer's    con- 
fusement  rather  than  surprise,  it  was  on  coarse  print  paper 
and  in  pencil.     After  stating  that  the  letter  had  found  its 
way  to   Beula   and   referring  to   having  seen    a   paper   in   a 
law  office  at  Meridian  sometime  before  with   a  picture   of 
Booth  in  it,  etc.,  it  went  on  to  state  circumstances  when  he 
was  a  lad;  but  the  substance  of  this  real  letter  is  no  nearly 
a  verbatum  duplicate  of  the  dream  one,  except  it  takes  up 
the   thread   where  the  dream  letter  dropped   it,   to   give   it 
would   amount   practically   to   duplicating.     After   referring 
to  the  two  strangers  minus  the  fish  and  little  Mose  episodes, 
the  real  letter  was  the  stranger  cross  the  river,  where  after 
taking  (then)  young  Pittman  jr.  in  his  arms  and  squeezing 
him  till,  the  letter  states,  "my  breath  was  about  gone,"  he 
asked  to  be  directed  to  a  boat  house  which  father  had  told 


WANDERINGS  OF  J.  WILKES  BOOTH  85 


him  before  crossing  was  moored  a  mile  or  so  above  and 
where  he  might  be  able  to  get  some  whisky  and  find  lodging. 
He  said  he  didn't  care  for  the  lodging,  only  a  place  to 
rest  awhile  as:  he  had  a  long  way  before  him.  He  bade 
father  and  me  goodbye,  and  that  is  the  last  we  ever  saw  of 
him.  Next  evening,  one  of  the  young  women  who  "clerked" 
at  the  river  house,  who  was  known  as  "Happy  Kate,"  a 
really  handsome  and  modest  young  woman  for  one  in  that 
position  in  that  place,  came  down  to  our  dugout  and  asked 
if  a  young  man  who  crossed  the  river  the  night  before  had 
been  back.  "What  kind  of  a  looking  fellow  was  he?" 
asked  father.  "There  are  so  many  people  who  come  this 
way."  In  a  fit  of  ecstacy,  Kate  declared  that  he  was  "the 
handsomest  man  I  ever  saw  in  all  my  life!"  Father  began 
teasing  her  about  her  handsomest — love-at-sight  beauty 
when  she  buried  her  face  in  her  hands  and  began  crying. 
Father  being  one  of  the  most  tender  hearted  men,  couldn't 
stand  "a  woman's  tears,"  so  he  sought  to  make  amends. 
"He  was  not  like  so  many  other  men  who  come  to  the 
river,"  said  Kate.  "Such  a  beautiful  face,  such  beautiful 
eyes  and  hair,  so  polite  to  every  one;  and  while  there  he 
never  said  one  vulgar  or  profane  word.  And  he  told  such 
lovely  stories  and  quoted  poetry  so  that  although  it  was 
nearly  morning  when  he  left  we  could  have  had  him  remain 
always.  He  drank  only  a  little,  stating  that  he  must  keep 
his  head  or — he  didn't  say  what.  And  when  he  smoother 
back  my  hair  and  told  me  I  was  too  good  a  young  woman 
to  always  live  such  a  life,  his  hands  were  so  soft  and  white. 
I  told  him  I  had  no  other  life  open,  and  he  asked  if  I  had 
a  father  or  a  mother.  And  on  speaking  the  word  "mother" 
tears  crept  over  his  face  and  he  turned  away  to  hide  then). 
I  told  him  I  had  neither  and  asked  if  he  had  any  father 
or  mother.  "I  have^ — a  mother,"  as  he  choked  back  emo- 
tion, "but — she  is—"  "Dead?"  I  involuntarily  uttered.  "Well 
— not  to  me,  but — I — I  am  to  her."  and  he  dropped  his 
head  into  my  lap  for  a  moment  as  he  fairly  sobbed.  But 
he  soon  brushed  up  and  again  smoothing  back  my  hair: 
"Poor  little  one.  And  you  have  nobody  to  care  for  you? 
Well,  you  can  not  say  that  hereafter."  He  seemed  so 
earnest  and  kind,  I  could  have  embraced  and  showered  him 
with — kisses,  which  I  know  he  would  have  shunned.  I  then 
told  him  I  had  an  uncle  John  somewhere  among  the  Indians 
with  some  kind  of  a  store.  His  last  name  was  either  Boke 
or  Drake.  I  told  him  I  used  to  get  letters  from  him  but 
it  had  been  so  long  I  had  forgotten  where  they  were  from." 
"An  uncle!"  half  to  himself,  "indeed."  Then  he  arose: 
"And  so  you  have  an  uncle  among  the  Indians?"  I  nodded 
"Yes,  or  did  have."  "Strange,"  he  said.  "I  may  run  across 
him."     I  then  asked  him  if  he  was  going  to  the  Indian  coun- 


86  WANDERINGS  OF  J.  WILKES  BOOTH 

try  and  he  replied  that  he  was  headed  that  way  "to  bury 
myself  among  the  wildest  tribes  I  can  find  until  I  am 
rested,  and  then — "  "And — "  before  I  could  finish:  "To 
Old  Mexico  where  the  hounds  of  the  law  can  never  reach 
me."  By  this  time  it  was  light  enough  to  see  to  travel  and 
he  after  bidding  all  the  rest  goodbye  and — "  Kate  blushed. 
"My  God!"  Kate  fairly  wailed.  "He  said  he  would  maybe 
find  my  uncle  and  I  am  sure  he  meant  that  he  would  then 
take  me  away  from  this  place  of — "  After  consoling  Kate 
with  a  few  words  of  cheer  and  hope  father  remarked; 
"Foolish  girl.  To  go  wild  over  a  strange  man  simply  be- 
cause he  is  handsome."  With  this  Kate  threw  her  arms 
wildly  in  the  air.  "No,  no,  not  on  that  account.  No,  no. 
He  was  a  man,  a  real  man !  I  would  follow  him  to  the  end 
of  the  world.  Yes,  and  sell  my  very  soul  to  pay  my  way." 
With  this  poor  now  unfortunate  Kate,  with  her  face 
buried  in  her  apron,  started  in  the  direction  of  the  river 
house  where  she  never  arrived,  and  that  is  the  last  she  was 
ever  seen,  in  that  section  at  least.  Some  of  the  river  house 
people  thought  she  had  drowned  herself  as  she  had  often 
threatened  to  do.  Others,  that  she  had  made  for  the  Indian 
country  to  find  her  uncle,  and — her  hastily  formed  "idol 
of  clay." 

Father,  as  I  called  Uncle  Walter,  said  he  had  seen 
Booth  a  number  of  times,  both  on  and  off  the  stage.  Rode 
with  him  on  a  boat  from  Vicksburg  to  New  Orleans,  and 
got  well  acquainted  with  him.  He  had  also  seen  his  t)rother 
Edwin  many  times.  "And,"  my  father  Walter  &ays,  "I  am 
as  sure  as  can  be  that  the  voung  lame  stranger  was  John 
Wilkes  Booth." 

Father  often  related  another  circumstance  some  thirty 
years  previous  when  two  strangers  rode  up  to  where  he 
was  shacking  at  this  same  Fishhook  Bend,  and  only  one  of 
them  wanted  to  cross,  the  other  intending  to  return  to 
Tennessee.  The  one  who  crossed  proved  to  be  the  newly- 
elected  governor  of  Tennessee  (Gen.  Sam  Houston),  who 
said  he  was  going  to  visit  the  Cherokees  for  a  vacation,  and 
possibly  might  later  be  heard  from  farther  south. 


QUERKS  AND  QUEER  QUEERIES 

A  farmer  planted  a  mellon  seed  on  his  own  land;  the 
vine  crept  through  a  crack  in  a  partition  fence  and  a  mel- 
lon grew  on  another  man's  land.  Who  was  entitled  to  the 
mellon?  A  duck  once  laid  an  egg  and  a  hen  hatched  it. 
Which  was  the  mother?  A  man  once  owned  a  boat  which 
he  tied  to  a  wharf  with  a  straw  rope.  Another  man's  bull 
went  on  the  boat  and  ate  the  rope.     The  boat  was  stove  to 


WANDERINGS  OF  J.  WILKES  BOOTH  87 


flinders  and  the  bull  killed.  Should  the  man  who  owned 
the  boat  pay  for  the  bull,  or  the  man  who  owned  the  bull 
pay  of  the  boat?  How  old  was  Ann?  After  you  have 
disposed  of  these  problems  satisfactorily,  tackle  the  ques- 
tion as  to  who  was  killed  at  the  Garrett  home  in  Virginia, 
and  what  became  of  the  body.  If  Dana  tells  the  truth,  it 
was  buried  in  the  navy  yard  and  a  battery  of  artillery 
drawn  over  it  to  obliverate  the  grave.  If  Col  Woodward 
tells  the  truth,  it  was  taken  down  the  Potomac  and  burned 
in  quick  lime.  If  Lew  Wallace  tells  the  truth,  it  was  bur- 
ied in  a  room  of  the  old  jail  and  subsequently  taken  up  and 
reburied  in  Green  Mound  Cemetry,  Baltimore.  If  Col.  W. 
P.  Wood,  who  was  superintendent  of  the  old  jail  and 
should  have  known  just  who  was  buried  in  there,  and 
where,  tells  the  truth,  he  and  three  others  took  the  body 
up  and  buried  it  in  the  Potomac.  Now,  who  in  thunder 
was  it  buried  in  Green  Mound  Cemetery? 

As  to  the  man  killed  at  the  Garrett  home,  it  may  be 
recalled  that  at  the  great  conspiracy  trial?  Messrs  Dana, 
Conger  and  Corbett  each  testified  that  the  man  in  the  crib 
was  heard  to  say  to  young  Herold,  "Get  out  of  here  you 
damned  coward,  I  don't  know  you — you  have  betrayed  me. 
I  don't  want  you  in  here."  Also  that  after  Herold  had  sur- 
rendered he  wanted  to  know  who  had  been  shot  in  the 
crib.  "You  know  who  is  was,"  said  Lieut.  Baker.  "No,  I 
do  not,"  replied  Herold.  "Yes  you  do — you  know  it  was 
Booth.."  To  this  young  Herold  declared:  "I  tell  you  I  do 
not  know  it  was  Booth.  I  didn't  know  the  man  in  there, 
except  that  he  told  me  his  name  was  Boyd;  and  I  never 
saw  him  until  several  miles  out  on  the  night  of  the'  flight 
when  he  overtook  me  and  rode  with  us  to  Mathias  Point, 
where  we  crossed  the  river.  (Boyd  Hole  is  a  point  on  the 
Potomac  near  Mathias  Point.)  Thake  this  and  the  thou- 
sand and  one  other  circumstances,  including  the  statement 
that  the  government  had  no  direct  or  positive  proof  that 
the  man  killed  at  the  Garret  home  was  Booth,  and  the  pre- 
ponderance of  evidence  that  Booth  was  a  live  physical  en- 
tity years  later,  is  it  not  reasonable  to  believe  that  the 
mar\  killed  at  the  Garrett  home  was  Roddy  or  whoever  it 
was  came  in  from  Bowling  Green  with  Herold  just  before 
the  arrival  of  the  pursuing  party  near  two  o'clock  in  the 
morning?  Of  course  it's  up  to  you  jurymen  to  say  whe- 
ther or  not  Boston  Corbett  is  guilty  of — not  killing  "a  man" 
but  of  killing  John  Wilkes  Booth. 

Unless  you  are  par  with  the  conspiracy  trial  judges 
who  were  thene  to  convict  rather  than  try,  your  verdict  can 
be  but  one  way — "not  guilty  of  killing  the  particular  man 
named  in  the  '■^''"ge." 


88 


WANDERINGS  OF  J.  WILKES  BOOTH 


A  STAIN   THAT   WILL  NEVER    WASH   OUT 

MRS.  MARY  E.  SURRATT,  Whose  sentence  of  death 
by  a  tribunal  organized  to  convict  was  a  travesty  on  jus- 
tice; wliose  execution  pales  to  insignificance  the  execueion 
of  Caville  who  was  an  admitted  spy  using  her  cloak  as  a 

nurse  under  employ- 
ment by  the  German 
governmetn  to  aid  ally 
prisoners  to  escape; 
whereas,  there  wasn't 
sufficient  evidence  of 
anything  criminal  prov- 
en against  Mrs.  Surratt 
to  have  sent  her  to  a 
work-house  twenty-four 
hours.  She  was  the 
mother  of  John  H.  Sur- 
ratt admittedly  in  the 
secret  service  lof  the 
Confederacy,  and  who 
stopped  with  his  moth- 
er when  passing  thru 
the  national  capital  on 
his  trips  between  Cana- 
da and  the  Confederate 
capital.  Booth  had  vis- 
ited the  Surratt  home  a 
couple  of  times  to  see 
the  son  John  H.  He 
had  stopped  at  many, 
many  other  hotels  and  rooming  houses,  not  only  a  couple 
of  times  but  often.  Payne  had  stopped  at  her  rooming 
house  two  nights  having  been  introduced  to  her  and  the 
daughter  Emma  as  a  young  Baptist  preacher,  by  one 
Heightman,  who  was  a  regular  roomer  there,  and  who 
paid  for  young  Payne's  room.  The  evidence  was  undis- 
puted that  both  Mrs.  Surratt  a  ad  her  daughter  when  Payne 
gave  another  name  on  the  second  night,  forbade  Height- 
man  bringing  him  there  again.  Azterodt  stayed  only  one 
night  at  the  Surrat  rooming  house  and  that,  too,  at  the 
instance  of  this  same  Heightman.  Mrs  Surratt  and  the 
daughter  didn't  like  his  appearance  and  forbade  him  ever 
coming  into  her  house  again,  and  he  never  did.  There 
was  not  one  scintility  of  proof  that  Mrs.  Surratt  took  any 
part  in  or  knew  of  any  of  the  plots,  not  even  to  kidnap,  that 
would  weigh  with  any  unprejudiced  jury,  except  that  given 
by  this  same  disreputable  Heightman  who  said  that  she 
wanted  him  to  ask  her  lessor  Lloyd  at  Surrattville  to  get 
some   things    ready  which  was   said  to  be   a  carbine  and 


WANDERINGS  OF  J.  WILKES  BOOTH  89 

knife  left  there  to  be  secreted  until  called  for.  etc.  This 
was  the  extent  of  the  "incriminating  evidence."  All  by  a 
witness  who  subsequently  boasted  that  he  was  under  the 
employ  of  the  Confederate  government  to  hatch  plots  and 
confer  with  Confederates  in  Canada  and  notify  the  Con- 
federate government  of  results.  At  the  same  time  under 
pay  of  the  Federal  governmnt  to  give  it  first  sight  and 
knowledge  of  such  information.  But  the  killing  of  the 
nation's  idol,  the  one  greatest  of  all  loved  characters  had 
set  the  Northern  heart  ablaze  for  atonement;  and  like  the 
ancient  god  who  demanded  his  nurse  of  blood  it  must  be 
the  blood  of  innocence.  That  national  craving  for  blood 
must  be  satisfied,  and  it  proved  not  the  policy  to  draw  it 
from  the  main  arteries. 


Hamilton    Roby,    Roddy    or    Boyd. 

During  a  brief  visit  in  Oklahoma  City  Dr.  Lawrence 
True  Wilson,  traveling  for  the  Methodist  denomination  in 
prohibition  work,  the  writer  was  highly  entertained.  Inci- 
dentally the  doctor  is  preparing  an  Epworth  lecture  on  the 
escape  of  Booth.  During  the  conversation  Mr.  Wilson  said 
he  at  one  time  had  an  intimate  friend — Sam  Colona,  who 
when  in  Washington  City  put  up  with  a  cousin  by  the  same 
name.  While  taking  a  boat  at  Princess  Ann,  Maryland, 
for  a  trip  to  Mexico,  Mr.  Colona  says  he  noticed  a  man  who 
had  just  "walked  the  plank"  ahead  of  him;  a  fine  looking 
gentleman,  exquisitely  dressed,  long  wavy  raven  hair,  keen 
black  eyes  and  mustache.  "There,"  says  Colona,  "I  saw 
some  one  who  I  was  sure  would  be  a  fine  companion,  so  on 
landing  on  the  boat  I  inquired  of  the  stranger  if  he  thought 
it  would  leave  on  time.  "Sure — you  will  be  the  last  to 
board."  Noticing  that  I  was  in  uniform,  he  inquired  if  I 
had  yet  secured  a  statesroom,  at  which  I  replied  I  had  not; 
that  I  was  a  soldier  and  used  to  hard  knocks  and  would 
sleep  on  the  chairs."  After  eyeing  me  a  moment  and  work- 
ing at  his  mustache  as  he  twirled  a  small  cane:  "You  will 
do  no  such  thing.  Yonder  is  my  statesroom  and  you  shall 
occupy  a  bunk  in  there  with  me."  Of  course,  the  olfer  was 
accepted  and  togetlier  we  traveled  until  landing  at  Vera 
Cruz.  And  let  me  say  I  found  the  man  who  after  T  told 
him  my  name  was  Sam  Colona,  said  his  name — "or  will  be" 
— he  added,  "John  St.  Helen."  We  secured  a  job  in  a 
box  factory  at  Vera  Cruz,  I  on  the  outside  and  he  an 
inside  clerical  position.  "I  finally  got  tired  of  Mexico," 
says  Mr.  Colona,  "and  told  St.  Helen  that  I  was  going  back 
to  God's  country  and  he  must  go  with  me;  that  I  could 
muster  enough  to  set  us  up  in  "business."  But  St.  Helen 
demurred.     "No,  my  best  of  friends,  when  we  part  we  will 


90  WANDERINGS  OF  J.  WILKES  BOOTH 


never  see  each  other  again.  I  dare  not  tell  you  why,  for 
if  you  knew  it  would  make  your  hair  stand  on  end."  With 
this  he  shifted  the  conversation.  In  a  few  days  after  I  told 
St.  Helen  that  I  was  going  and  he  could  at  least  go  as  far 
as  the  boat  with  me.  We  started,  but  when  in  about  half 
a  mile  of  the  wharf  St.  Helen  stopped  and  remarked  as 
he  extended  his  hand:  "If  you  must  go,  I  suppose  it 
means  our  parting  and  it  may  as  well  be  right  now.  I 
nii.irht  find  some  one  at  the  river  I  don't  want  to  see." 
After  a  few  dcslutary  remarks  he  said:  "Well,  my  dear 
friend — but  before  we  finally  part  I  am  constrained  to 
unbosom  myself,  feeling  that  I  can  trust  you  with— a 
secret,"  as  he  reached  over  and  fairly  whispered.  Again 
shaking  my  hand  fervently:  "Good-bye,  my  best  of  friends, 
but — "  squaring  face  to  fame:  "I  am  John  Wilkes  Booth, 
and  now  you  know  something  no  one  else  on  this  earth 
knows  except  myself.  Please — do — give  no  hint  that  may 
start  the  blood-hounds  on  my  track."  With  this  John 
St.  Helen  and  I  parted. 

Claimed    Booth    Was    Her    Father. 

0.n  btincr  questioned  as  to  what  he  knew  about  a 
handsome  young  blondine  roaming  around  claiming  that 
John  Wilkes  Booth  was  her  father.  "I  know  only  this," 
replied  Mr.  Wilson:  "Some  two  years  ago,  among  num- 
rrcus  daily  visitors  to  the  house  where  Lincoln  died  was  an 
r^-"Of'dincly  hp;uitifiil  young  woman — a  pronounced  brun- 
ette with  large  dreamy  black  eyes  and  wavy  silken  hair 
who  asked  if  she  could  be  shown  a  picture  of  John"  Wilkes 
Booth.  One  was  brought  from  an  adjoining  room  which 
the  young  woman  scanned  a  moment  and  then  pressed  it 
passionately  to  her  bosom,  at  which  the  housekeeper  left 
the  room  in  disgust  as  she  declared  that  any  one  would 
press  the  photo  of  Booth  to  her  bosom.  Presently  however 
she  returned  only  to  find  the  young  woman  in  a  histeria  of 
sobs.  This  softened  the  housekeeper's  heart  and  she  placed 
an  arm  about  the  girl  and  told  her  not  to  cry.  "If  you 
only  knew  the  circumstances,"  said  the  young  woman  as 
she  looked  up  pitcously  pleading:  "John  Wilkes  Booth 
was  my  own  father".  Then  returning  the  photo  after  one 
more  tear-dimmed  glance  and  pressing  it  to  her  bosom, 
she  thanked  the  kind  hostess  and  took  leave,  first  saying 
that  slip  lived  in  El  Reno,  Oklahoma,  to  where  she  would 
return  in  the  course  of  a  few  days. 

It  seems  that  when  the  Kiowa-Comanche  country  was 
opened  in  1901  "George"  drew  a  lucky  number  and  secured 
a  claim  near  Hydro  adjoining  one  secured  by  a  bu'T-^m 
widow   who   had   drifted   in   from   Texas   to   take    a   number 


WANDERINGS  OF  J    WILKES  BOOTH 


91 


in  the  land  lottery.  "George"  was  seen  to  visit  the  little 
slab  home  of  the  aforesaid  buxom  and  on  one  or  two 
occasions  they  visited  El  Reno — on  the  same  day.  Nosey 
ones  declared  they  could  see  a  family  resemblance  and  were 
bold  enough  to  inquire  of  "George"  if  the  woman  was  a 
relative.  "Excuse  me,"  he  added,  introducing  the  woman, 
"This  is  Miss  St.  Helen,  a — no,  not  exactly — my  sister." 
Subsequently  he  admitted  that  the  woman  was  no  relation, 
that  he  merely  introduced  her  as  a  josh,  etc.  This  set 
Madam  Rumpus  a  going  and  it  was  soon  whispered  that 
"George"  and  the  buxomite  had  been  married  by  a  Hydro 
justice.  And  soon  after  the  suicide  in  1903  the  woman 
gave  birth  to  a  girl  whom  she  had  christened  St.  Helen, 
and  soon  as  mother  and  daughter  were  able  to  travel  they 
lit  out  ostensible  for  Texas,  and  were  ever  after  lost  from 
the  sight  of  Oklahomans.  If  still  living,  the  girl  born  in 
1903  would  have  been  a  trifle  beyond  the  teens  at  the  time 
Mr.  Wilson  alleges  the  pretended  daughter  of  Booth  visited 
Washington.  However,  one  thing  seems  evident:  If  either 
"George"  or  Booth  ever  had  a  handsome  young  brunette 
daughter  with  laughing  eyes  and  raven  hair,  she  never 
debuttcd  into  either  El  Reno  or  Enid's  social  circles  of 
Four  Hundred. 


Fully  conscious  of  the  risk 
taken  in  giving  so  much  con- 
cerning the  personal  of  John 
Wilkes  Booth,  especially  that 
which  seems  favorable,  the 
temptation  to  add  just  one 
more  brand  to  the  risk  is  too 
strong  for  resistence.  It  is 
the  benutiful  tribute  paid  the 
unfortunate  actor  by  that 
most  lovcable  and  purest  of 
all  actresses  that  ever  graced 
the  American  stage — Clara 
Morris  as  she  was  called,  al- 
thougli  her  real  name  was 
Clara  Morrison,  the  last  sylla- 
[ble  being  lost  when  she  gave 
I  her  name  to  the  stage  salary 
clerk  on  her  first  appearance 
[before  the  footlights.  Clara 
Morris,  born  in  a  humble 
sparcely  furnished  room  in 
Canada  on  a  St.  Patrick's 
night  when  the  brown  of  earth 
and  tree  and  bud  had  cloaked  in  a  smother  of  fleecy  down 


92  WANDERINGS  OF  J.  WILKES  BOOTH 

which  softened  into  rain.  The  night  was  drizzly  and  the 
berg  was  a  scene  of  disorder  and  the  blood  of  Erin  mingled 
— the  orange  with  the  green  as  the  parade  went  on.  A 
clap  of  thunder  and  as  arion  pierced  the  mists,  there  was 
an  infant  cry  in  that  humble  room,  and  soon  the  coming 
woman  wonder  of  American  purity  on  the  American  stage 
gave  her  first  test  of  lung  power.  Her  father  was  described 
as  a  "large  handsome  Canadian  with  a  broad  smile."  A 
moral  pervert  who  abandoned  the  coming  mother  and  haunt- 
ed her  from  place  to  place  until  she  was  after  years  of 
hiding  from  him  relieved  at  announcement  that  he  was 
dead.  But  here  was  wealth  in  poverty's  guise — a  wealth  of 
energy,  of  a  mother's  effection,  a  daughter's  undying  love 
and  devotion.  From  the  lower  round  to  the  highest  forged 
Clara  Morris  until  the  very  stars  were  in  reach.  In  her 
beautifully  written  Life  on  the  Stage,  one  section  or  period 
is  devoted  to  her  association  with  the  Booths.  In  glancing 
back  over  two  crowded  and  busy  seasons,  she  says,  one  figure 
stands  out  with  such  clearness  and  beauty  that  I  can  not 
resist  the  impulse  to  speak  of  him,  rather  than  of  my  own 
inconsequential  self.  In  his  case  so  far  as  my  personal 
knowledge  goes  there  was  nothing  derogatory  to  dignity 
or  to  manhood  in  being  called  beautiful,  for  he  was  that 
bud  <yi  splendid  promise  blasted  in  the  core  before  its  full 
triumphant  blooming — known  to  the  world  as  a  madman — 
but  to  the  profession  as  "that  unhappy  boy,"  John  Wilkes 
Booth.  He  was  so  young,  so  bright,  so  gay,  so  kind.  Of 
course  there  are  two  or  more  different  persons  in  every 
one's  skin,  yet  when  we  remember  that  actors  are  not  gen- 
erally in  the  habit  of  showing  their  brightest,  their  best 
side  to  the  company  at  rehearsal,  we  cannot  help  feeling 
both  respect  and  liking  for  the  one  who  does."  Miss  Morris 
here  gives  an  account  of  the  sword  bout  between  McCollom 
and  Booth  wherein  the  latter  showed  such  coolness  in  the 
very  shadow  of  death  as  the  life  blood  seemed  to  flow  in  a 
torrent  down  his  cheek  from  an  ill-advised  thrust  from 
(McCollom's  sword.  How  the  wounded  man  forgot  his  own 
pains  to  sooth  the  tortured  mind  of  the  one  who  had 
wrought  the  wound.  Self  lost  in  anxiety  for  his  compan- 
ion— visible  index  to  Booth's  love  of  human  kind  and  read- 
iness to  sacrifice  and  sink  self  that  other  might  be  relieved. 
Of  how,  although  fairly  exhausted  from  the  loss  of  blood, 
the  actor  insisted  on  finishing  the  bout  in  true  fighting 
skill  until  the  last  stroke  fell  as  demanded  in  the  lines. 
"Why,  old  fellow,"  he  said  to  the  grieving  companion, 
"You  look  as  if  you  had  lost  the  blood."  And  so  with 
light  words  he  sought  to  set  the  unfortunate  man  at  ease, 
and  though  he  must  have  suffered  much  mortification  as 
well   as  pain   from  the   eye  that  in   spite   of   all   endeavors 


WANDERINGS  OF  J.  WILKES  BOOTH  93 

would  blacken,  he  never  made  a  sign.  He  was  like  his 
great  elder  brother,  rather  lacking  in  height,  but  his  head 
and  throat  and  the  manner  of  its  rising  from  the  shoulders, 
were  truly  beautiful.  His  coloring  was  unusual,  the  ivory 
pallor  of  his  skin,  the  inky  blackness  of  his  densely  thick 
hair,  the  heavy  lids  of  his  glowing  eyes,  were  all  oriental, 
and  they  gave  a  touch  of  mystery  to  his  face  when  it  fell 
into  gravity;  but  there  was  generally  a  flash  of  white  teeth 
behind  his  silky  mustache,  and  a  laugh  in  his  eyes. 

One  thing  I  shall  never  help  admiring  him  for.  When 
a  man  has  placed  a  clean  and  honest  name  in  his  wife's 
care  for  life,  about  the  most  stupidly  wicked  use  she  can 
make  of  it  is  as  a  signatory  to  a  burst  of  amatory  flatteries, 
addressed  to  an  unknown  actor,  who  will  despise  her  for 
her  trouble.  Some  women  may  shrivel  as  though  they 
were  attacked  with  "peach-leaf  curl,"  when  they  hear  how 
these  silly  letters  are  sometimes  passed  about  and  laughed 
at.  "No  gentleman  would  so  betray  a  confidence."  Of 
course  not.  But  once  when  I  made  that  remark  to  an 
actor  who  was  then  flaunting  the  food  his  vanity  fed  upon, 
he  roughly  answered:  "And  no  lady  would  so  address  an 
unknown  man.  She  cast  away  her  right  to  respectful  con- 
sideration when  she  thrust  that  letter  in  the  box."  That 
was  brutal.  But  there  are  those  who  think  like  him  this 
very  day,  and,  oh,  foolish  tamperers  with  fire,  who  act  like 
him. 

Now  it  is  scarcely  exaggeration  to  say  that  the  sex 
was  in  love  with  John  Booth,  the  name  of  Wilkes  then 
but  seldom  used.  At  depot  restaurants  those  fiercely  un- 
willing maiden-slammers  and  coffee  pot  shooters  made  to 
him  swift  and  gentle  offerings  of  hot  steak,  hot  coffee,  hot 
biscuits,  crowding  around  him  like  doves  around  a  grain 
basket, — leaving  other  travelers  to  wait  on  themselves  or 
go  without  refreshments.  At  the  hotels,  maids  had  been 
known  to  enter  his  room  and  tear  asunder  the  already 
made  up  bed,  that  the  "turn-over"  might  be  broader  by  a 
thread  or  two,  and  both  pillows  stand  perfectly  at  a  proper 
angle.  At  the  theatre — good  heavens,  as  the  Clyte  turns 
upon  their  stalks  to  follow  the  beloved  sun,  so  old  or 
young,  our  faces  smiling  turned  to  him.  Yes,  old  or  young, 
for  the  little  daughter  of  the  manager  who  played  bat  the 
Duke  of  York  came  to  the  theatre  each  day,  each  night  of 
the  engagement  arrayed  in  her  best  gowns,  and  turned  on 
him  fevered  eyes  that  might  well  have  served  for  Juliet. 
The  manager's  wife,  whose  sternly  aggressive  virtue  no 
one  could  doubt  or  question,  with  the  air  of  art  waved 
and  fluffed  her  hair,  and  softened  thus  her  too  hard  line  of 
brow,  and  let  her  keen  black  eyes  fill  with  friendly  sparkles 
for  us  all — yet,  'twas  because  of  him.     And  when  the  old 


94  WANDERINGS  OF  J.  WILKES  BOOTH 


woman  made  to  threaten  him  with  her  finger,  and  he  caught 
her  lifted  hand  and  uncovering  her  bonnie  head  stooped 
and  kissed  it,  then  came  the  wanton  blood  to  her  cheek  as 
if  she  had  been  a  girl  again. 

His  letters,  then,  from  flirtatious  women!  and  alas, 
girls,  you  may  well  believe  were  legion.  A  cloud  used  to 
gather  upon  his  face  at  sight  of  them.  I  have  of  course 
no  faintest  idea  that  he  lived  the  godly  righteous  and  sober 
life  that  is  enjoined  upon  us  all,  but  I  do  remember  with 
respect  that  this  idolized  man  when  the  letters  were  many 
and  the  rehearsal  was  on,  would  carefully  cut  off  every 
signature  and  utterly  destroj'  them,  then  pile  the  unread 
letters  up,  and,  I  do  not  know  what  their  final  end  was, 
but  he  remarked  with  knit  brows  as  he  caught  me  watch- 
ing him  at  his  work  one  morning:  "They,"  pointing  to  the 
pile  of  mutilated  letters,  "they  are  harmless,  now,  little 
one,  their  sting  lies  in  the  tail."  And  when  a  certain  free 
and  easy  actor,  laughingly  picked  up  a  very  elegantly  writ- 
ten note  and  said:  "I  can  read  it,  can't  I,  now  the  signa- 
ture is  gone?"  He  answered  shortly:  "The  woman's  folly 
is  no  excuse  for  your  knavery.  Lay  that  letter  down, 
please." 

I  played  the  Player-Queen  to  my  great  joy,  and  in  the 
Marble  Heart  I  was  one  of  the  group  of  three  statues  in 
the  first  act.  We  were  supposed  to  represent  Lais,  Asphasia 
and  Prhryne,  and  when  we  read  the  cast,  I.  glanced  at  the 
other  girls  (we  were  not  strikingly  handsome)  and  re- 
marked gravely,  "Well,  it's  a  comfort  to  know  that  we 
look   so  like  the   three   beautiful   Grecians." 

A  laugh  at  our  backs  brought  us  suddenly  around  to 
face  Booth  who  said  to  me:  "You  satirical  little  wretch, 
how  do  you  come  to  know  these  Grecian  ladies?  Perhaps 
you  have  the  advantage  of  them  of  being  beautiful  within." 

"I  wish  it  would  strike  outward,  then,"  I  answered. 
"You  know  it's  always  best  to  have  things  come  to  the 
surface," 

"I  know  some  very  precious  things  are  hidden  from 
common  sight,  and  I  know,  too,  you  caught  my  meaning 
in  the  first  place.     Good   night."     And  he  left  us 

Another  touch  of  that  superb  nature  cropped  out  when 
the  three  were  going  under  inspection  for  position.  Jt  hap- 
pened that  one  of  the  trio  had  immaculate  limbs,  another 
passable  attractive  arms;  but  the  third,  she  had  limbs  that 
resembles  more  a  pair  of  broomsticks.  When  Mr.  Booth 
came  in  his  Greek  garments  and  had  examined  numbers 
one  and  two,  as  he  gently  lifted  the  drapery  of  number 
three,  there  was  an  involuntary  smirch  of  the  mouth  as 
thougli  he  had  just  tasted  a  lemon;  but  witli  his  wonted 
diplomacy   he   hastily  lowered  the   drapery   and   remarked. 


WANDERINGS  OF  J.  WILKES  BOOTH  95 

"I  believe  I'll  advance  you  to  be  the  stately  and  wise 
Asphasia."  The  central  figure  wore  her  drapery  hanging 
straight  down  to  her  feet,  hence  the  "advance"  and  con- 
sequent concealment  of  the  unlovely  limbs.  It  was  quickly 
and  kindly  done,  for  the  girl  was  not  only  spared  mortifi- 
cation, but  in  the  word  "advance"  she  saw  a  compliment 
and  was  happy  accordingly.  Then  my  turn  came;  my  arms 
were  placed  about  Asphasia,  my  head  bent  and  turned  and 
twisted,  my  right  hand  curved  upon  my  breast,  so  that  the 
forefinger  touched  my  chin.  I  felt  that  I  was  a  personified 
simper,  but  I  kept  silent  and  patient  until  the  arrangement 
of    my    draperies    began — then    I    squirmed    anxiously. 

"Take  care!  Take  care,"  he  cautioned,  "You  will  sway 
the  others  if  you  move."  But  in  spite  of  the  risk  of  my 
marble  make-up,  I  faintly  groaned:  "Oh,  dear,  must  I  be 
like  that?" 

Regardless  of  the  pins  in  the  corner  of  his  mouth  he 
burst  into  laughter,  and  taking  a  photograph  from  the 
bosom  of  his  Greek  shirt,  he  said:  "I  expected  a  protest 
from  you.  Miss,  so  I  came  prepared;  don't  move  your  head 
but  just  look  at  this." 

He  held  the  picture  of  a  group  of  statuary  up  before 
me:  "This  is  you  on  the  right.  It's  not  so  dreadful,  now, 
is  it?"  And  I  cautiously  murmured  that  if  I  wasn't  any 
worse  than  that  I  wouldn't  mind. 

Next  morning  I  saw  Mr.  Booth  running  out  of  the 
theatre  on  his  way  to  the  telegraph  ofi'ice  at  the  corner, 
and  right  in  the  middle  of  the  walk  starring  about  him, 
stood  a  child — a  small  roamer  of  the  stony  streets,  who  had 
evidently  gotten  far  beyond  his  native  ward  to  arouse  mis- 
givings as  to  his  personal  safety,  and  at  the  very  moment 
he  stopped  to  consider  matters  Mr.  Booth  dashed  out  at 
the  stage  door  and  added  to  his  bewilderment  by  capsizing 
him   completely. 

"O,  good  Lord,  baby,  are  you  hurt?"  exclaimed  Mr. 
Booth,  pausing  instantly  to  pick  up  the  dirty,  tousseled 
small  heap  and  stood  it  on  its  bandy  legs  again.  "Don't 
cry,  little  chap,"  and  the  aforesaid  little  chap  not  only 
ceased  to  cry  but  gave  a  damp  grimy  smile,  at  which  the 
actor  bent  toward  him  quickly,  but  paused,  took  out  his 
handkerchief  and  first  carefully  wiping  the  dirty  Tittle  nose 
and  mouth,  stooped  and  kissed  him  heartily,  put  some 
change  in  each  freckled  paw  and  continued  his  run  to  the 
telegraph  ofi'ice.  He  knew  no  witness  to  the  act.  To  kiss 
a  pretty  clean  child  under  the  approving  eye  of  mamma 
might  mean  nothing  but  politeness,  but  surely  it  required 
the  prompting  of  a  warm  and  tender  heart  to  make  a  young 
and  thoughtless  man  feel  for  and  caress  such  a  dirty  forlorn 
bit  of  babyhood  as  that. 


96 ^vA^'r)^:RlNGS  of  j.  wilkes  booth 

DR.  JECKLE  AND  MR.  HYDE 

Of  course  there  are  always  two  sides  to  every  question 
and  this  is  not  an  exception.  You  will  find  a  number  of 
the  best  and  most  reliable  citizens  of  El  Reno  who  will  tell 
you  that  they  were  intimateh'  acquainted  with  Georpre  the 
painter,  sometimes  called  crazy  George  because  he  was 
supposed  to  be  more  or  less  daffy.  That  they  knew  him 
to  their  financial  sorrow,  for  he  was  a  consummate  beggar, 
living  from  hand  to  mouth  on  what  he  could  beg  or 
borrow  and  on  garbage  from,  the  back  alley  dumps.  He 
was  in  short  an  intolerable  saloon  bum  and  loafer,  with 
scarcely  intelligence  enough  to  mix  paint  or  spread  it. 
Ragged  and  uncouth  to  a  disgusting  degree,  a  veritable 
male  Fanchon  except  that  the  soil  of  ages  mingled  with 
the  wear  of  his  grimed  wardrobe.  His  shirt  had  been  once 
white,  but  he  had  no  change,  slept  in  them,  until  an  expert 
could  not  have  told  whether  they  had  been  made  of  muslin 
or  old  army  blankets,  filthy  and  repulsive  in  every  way. 
Illiterate,  the  idea  of  his  being  able  to  quote  a  passage  in 
Shakespeare  too  silly  to  mention.  He  received  a  small 
stipend  at  stated  times  and  this  was  invariably  hipothecated 
over  and  over  before  it  came.  His  face  was  occasionally 
"clipped"  but  never  shaven  and  his  hair  was  a  mass  of 
strubly  coarse  bristles.  As  to  any  woman  on  earth  becom- 
ing stuck  on  such  a  miserable  misfit  would  be  laughable 
were  it  not  ridiculous.  This  is  the  picture  of  George  the 
painter  as  drawn  by  such  observers  as  Meyer,  one  of 
El  Reno's  leading  real  estate  men,  by  Mr.  J.  W.  Baldwin, 
and  others.  The  late  Bob  Forest  so  painted  him  in  poetic 
metre.  He  bothered  Bob  to  the  limit  of  endurance  about  his 
stipend  being  delayed.  But  there  were  two  painters  in 
El  Reno  sailing  under  the  name  of  George.  This  was  one 
of  them.  He  was  not  George  the  cultured  gentleman,  of 
such  manly  grace  and  stage  bearing  who  had  Shakespeare 
and  other  classic  authors  on  his  tongue's  end.  This  was 
not  the  painter  George  who  put  up  at  the  best  places 
and  had  access  to  the  most  fashionable  circles,  whose  clothes 
were  of  the  finest  cloth  and  latest  pattern,  who  was  a  very 
Beau  Brummel  in  dress,  almost  painfully  clean  and  tidy. 
This  was  not  the  painter  who  committed  suicide  at  Enid 
under  the  name  of  David  E.  George.  But  the  painter 
George  of  whom  the  El  Reno  gentleman  referred  to  speak 
quite  knowingly.  The  painter  George  of  their  acquaint- 
ance was  the  prototype  of  the  figure  they  drew  in  every 
particular.  But  instead  of  putting  up  at  elite  places  he 
occupied  an  old  abandoned  thresher's  cook-shed  in  a  bs^k 
alley  on  a  back  street.  Here  he  slept  and  ate  his  garbage 
— Crazy  George  Thrower  who  died  at  the  Canadian  county 
poor  farm  a  year  or  so  ago. 


Booth   crossing  plains   as   "Jessie    Smith." 


.«^' 


Darky  Lucas,  with   Booth   Secreted. 


•f.-cv"* 


THE    SL'KUES    HOME    OF    DR    STEWART. 

Near  Where  Was  C'btalned   the  Old   Negro  and   His  Wagofi  so 

H&ul   Boollj    lo  the    RappahanDOck    Klver. 


WANDERINGS  OF  J.  WILKES  BOOTH  97 


I 


"I   presume   I    was   as   well    acquainted   with    the    man 
known  as  David  E.  George  as  any  one  in  El  Reno,"  said 
Ex-Chief  Wm.   D.   Robar   of   El  Reno  to  the   writer  some 
weeks  ago.     "I  saw  him  almost  daily,  being  then  chief  of 
police.     Those  who  picture  him  as  being  either  uncouth   or 
ignorant,    of   being    a   saloon   bum    or   of    dressing   shabily, 
surely    have    the    wrong   painter    in    mind;    for    there    was 
another  character  doing  odd  paint  jobs  who  went  by  the 
name  of  George,  and  he  would  exactly  measure  up  to  the 
picture    as    drawn    with    bum    habits."     Here    Chief    Robar 
told  the   story  of   George  Thrower  who   died   at   the   poor 
farm  a  year  or  so  ago.     David  E.  George  was  immaculate 
in  dress  and  was  the  personification  of  politeness  and  kindly 
manner.     During  all  the  time  I  knew  him  I  never  saw  him 
overly  excited  but  once.     He  and  John   Sames,  brother  of 
Mrs.    Simmon ■;    with    whom    he    roomed,   had   taken    a    few 
drinks  when   Sames,  who   was  inclined  to   get  quarrelsome 
when   in   his   cups,   started   up   some   kind   of   an   argument, 
winding  up   with  hitting  George   on   the  back  of  tne  head 
when  he  wasn't  looking.     At  this  George  became   terribly 
excited    and   this   grew   to    a   rage.     He   said   he   had   done 
nothing  to  offend,  and  that  only  a  coward  would  attack  a 
man  from  behind.     With  this  George  started  to  the  house 
for  a  gun.     His  temper  was  such  that  I  was  afraid  some- 
thing  serious   might   happen,    so    I    sought    out    Sames    and 
warned  him  that  he  was  playing  with  fire.     "That  man  is 
liable  to  pop  you   over  on  sight,"  I  told   Sames,  "and  the 
best  thing  you  can  do  is  to  keep  under  cover  until  I  can 
quiet  the  matter.     Pretty  soon  I  saw  George  emerge  from 
the  hotel  with  an  ominous  survey  up  and  down  the  street. 
I  leisurely  walked  over   and  sought  to   calm  him,  in   which 
I  succeeded  to  an  extent  that  he  gave  me  his  gun,  remark- 
ing that  if  it  were  not  that  the  sister  had  been  so  kind  to 
him  he  would  make  the  brother  eat  dirt.     Thus  ended  the 
matter  and  the  two  were  soon  friendly  once  more.     George 
told  me  that  he  didn't  think  he  was  either  brave  or  coward- 
ly; that  he  had  passed  through   many  thrilling  and  some- 
times  dangerous   scenes   but    always    managed   to    keep   his 
head.     He  said  one  time  while  painting  a  house  in  Texas 
he  saw  a  lot  of  cowboys  come  tearing  through  the  streets. 
"I  was  at  the  very  top   of  the   roof  astride  the  comb 
when:  Bang!  Whiz!  one  of  the  cowboys  had  taken   a  shot 
at  me  and  the  bullet   came   so   close   I   could   almost  taste 
it.     Scared?     Well,  I  should  say  so!     How  I  ever  got  down 
from  the  roof  has  always  remained  a  mystery;  but  I  man- 
aged to  do  so  somehow  without  breaking  my  neck.     All  I 
remember   after   that   frightful    "Whiz,"   is   I   found   myself 
sitting  on  the  edge  of  the  porch  below  wondering  what  was 
Ml  the  wind.     I  went  into  the  building  which  was  vacant — 


98  WANDERINGS  OF  J.  WILKES  BOOTH 


except  in  one  corner  was  a  carbine  with  just  one  load  in 
it.  I  gathered  the  gun  and  took  a  secluded  position  at  one 
end  of  the  porch.  Just  then  I  caught  a  glimpse  of  the 
same  cowboy  who  had  been  so  familiar  with  me  while  I 
was  hugging  the  room,  a  crack  rang  out  and  that  cowboy 
fell  from  the  saddle,  and  was  pickel  up  plugged  through 
and  through.  To  this  day  no  one  but  myself  knows  who 
fired  that  shot  except  that  you  now  know."  Chief  Robar 
says  if  George  had  ever  been  married  or  had  a  daughter  he 
would  certainly  have  known  it,  "for,"  says  he,  "I  flatter 
myself  that  George  trusted  me  with  fullest  confidence,  and 
I  am  sure  he  would  have  let  me  know  something  about  it."' 


WHYFORE  THESE   WILLS? 

The  question  may  be  asked:  "If  the  Enid  suicide  was 
not  George,  why  did  he  make  a  series  of  wills  in  that 
name?"  And  now  this  question— Why  not?  He  was  yet 
alive.  For  half  a  century  he  hod  been  "leaping  from  crag 
to  crag"  like  the  sweet  valkyre,  fleeing  from  a  merciless 
pursuer.  Big  rewards  for  his  capture  "dead  or  alive"  were 
still  in  waiting,  should  he  be  discovered,  and  of  those  who 
held  his  secret,  at  least  five  persons,  three  of  them  were — 
women,  mind  you!     Women! 

Of  course  those  acquainted  with  the  excellent  women, 
of  their  great  probity  and  exemplary,  daily  life  know  that 
not  one  of  them  that  would  not  suffer  death  on  the  rack 
rather  than  break  such  a  pledge.  But  as  to  "George"— his 
acquaintance  with  them  had  been  comparatively  brief;  and 
besides,  his  natural  distrust  of  every  one — of  the  whole 
world,  it  is  quite  different. 

One  of  these  five  confidents  had  in  effect  betrayed  him 
by  notifying  the  government  that  he  was  still  alive.  Of 
this  it  is  more  than  likely  "George"  knew,  and  may  have 
speculated:  Suppose  the  department  instead  of  saying  it 
would  be  of.no  interest  ti  knew  that  Booth  had  not  been 
killed.  It  had  said  the  reverse?  Why  wp.s  the  department  at 
Washington  queried,  not  onlv  orce.  but  twice?  And  may 
not  the  knowledge  that  these  queiie^  had  beer  made  have 
had  something  to  r  o  with  "J  \r\  St.  Hel'ei"  sudde-^.'.y  leav- 
ing Texas  for  parts  rot  conf dec"  to  a'^y  one.  rft  ev^-^  to 
his  supposed  closest  friend  a"d  CTfirle  t.  Th?.t  pri  cinal 
woman  in  whom  he  had  c'l^fi^'ed  was  eve-^.  "ow  r^  Fiid. 
"George"  knew  that  the  lure  cf  ro^d  ou'-weie'-.ed  a'l  other 
considerations.  The  glittering  heard  of  the  Nfebellungs! 
For  this  has  honor,  virtue,  life  i*^self  been  staked.  Some 
rn  doubt  there  were  immune  from  the  tempting  lu -e:  but 
who?  This  other  man?  These  three  women  with  a  double 
incentive — they  were  of  the  nor'^h  where  the  ver%-  v-'mf  of 
Booth  was  held  in  execration.     Fcr  one  or  both  incentives 


^ 


WANDERINGS  OF  J.  WILKES  BOOTH  99 

might  one  of  these  throw  confidence  to  the  winds  and  put 
the  vulture  hounds  of  hate,  the  adventurer,  the  devotee 
of  gold,  the  man-hunter  who  gloates  in  the  game — on  his 
track?  Even  though  holding  pledge  as  sacred,  might  not 
the  vessel  leak?  Something  must  be  done  to  keep  up  the 
delusion  of  the  name  by  which  he  is  known  in  that  region. 
But  what?  He  had  jumped  from  post  to  pillar,  assuming 
first  one  name  and  then  another.  He  had  resorted  to  ev- 
ery resource  at  his  command.  The  idea  of  making  a  will 
intruded;  not  a  private  will  under  lock  and  seal,  but  a  pub- 
lic will  open  for  inspection  by  the  public.  In  fact  he  call- 
ed in  double  the  number  of  witnesses  required,  and  they 
of  the  most  prominent  men  of  the  city.  But  still  the 
spectre  would  not  down.  At  every  turn  was  met  some  one 
who  had  known  Booth  before  the  tragedy.  In  fact  Enid 
seemed  a  very  mecca  for  such. 

Levi  Thrailkell,  with  whom  Booth  crossed  the 
plains  lived  in  Enid.  A  very  asylum  of  Booth-knowers. 
And  conceive  of  what  spooks,  what  apparitions  an  imagina- 
tion like  that  of  the  forensic,  poetic  Booth  might  conjure — 
one  constantly  chased  by  "shadows  of  the  past."  Every 
mysterious  glance,  imperious  tone  and  manner  voices  a 
search  for  the  secret  within  from  the  sign  without.  Every 
foreward  query  a  covet  trap  for  his"  ensnarement. 

The  evident  purpose  of  the  will  served  more  than  one. 
It  set  the  reporter  quizzing.  In  fact,  the  ink  was  scarcely 
dry  on  the  signatures  until  he  was  pulled  to  one  side  by  a 
United  Press  correspondent,  who  in  a  sort  of  imperious 
tone  and  manner  voices:  "Is  your  name  George?  Is  that 
your  signature?"  pointing  to  the  name  George.  "I  wrote 
it,"  was  the  laconic  evasion.  He  sought  companinship  in 
the  flowing  bowl,  and  the  name^  of  it  was  legion,  omnipre- 
sent in  that  day,  in  that  town.  This  but  etherialized  the 
substance  and  gave  wings  to  fancy  and  stimulance  to  imag- 
ination until  sunshine  resolved  into  darkness.  Stars  of 
the  night  were  but  vigil  eyes  from  arial  towers  searching 
for  the  beast  in  the  hidden  lair.  Before  him,  behind  him 
and  on  either  side  of  him  stalked  phantom  guards  armed 
and  bearing  clanking  chains.  Above  his  pillow  grinning 
fauvettes  hovered  in  suitings  of  firery  red,  horns  and  spik- 
ed tails,  dinning  his  ears  with  sepulchral  groans  and  taunt- 
ing mimics.  It  was  the  parting  of  the  ways.  Next  morn- 
ing he  went  to  the  Watrus  Drug  Store  and  purchased  sev- 
eral grains  of  strychnine  for  the  purpose,  so  he  stated,  of 
"killing  a  dead  hound."  He  has  scarcely  reached  the  walk 
until  like  a  nemesis  of  the  dark  that  same  United  Press  cor- 
respondent collared  him  and  with  reportorial  gall  sought 
a  poison  stoi-y  from  him.  This  again  set  the  imagination 
on  a  rapid  whirl.  However  shaky  may  have  been  his  de- 
termination, it  now  become  a  thing  of  steel.     Returning  he 


100  WANDERINGS  OF  J.  WILKES  BOOTH 

asked  the  proprietor,  Eugene  Watrus,  for  another  dose  of 
strychnine — ten  grains,  failing  to  mention  that  he  had  had 
made  a  purchase  from  the  clerk,  who  had  just  been  reliev- 
ed tor  breakfast.  This  time  he  said  he  wanted  to  kill  a 
pestiferous  cat.  Mr.  Watrus  tried  to  persuade  him  to  use 
something  else,  and  explained  to  him  the  awful  agony  that 
poi-^oa  involved.  At  first  the  suggestion  of  agony  seemed 
to  have  effect  and  "George"  started  as  if  to  leave,  but  re- 
turned and  in  a  sort  of  c^ireless  indiffeient  way  said  he 
guessed  he  would  take  the  strychnine  "Wliat's  a  few 
iiangs?  They  won't  last  long.  I'll  thake  the  poison  to  the 
cat  and  take  chances."  In  less  than  an  hour  "George"  was 
discovered  in  his  room  writhing  in  all  the  agonies  Mr. 
Watrus  had  described.  In  a  moment  of  less  pangs — the 
forerunrer  of  the  end,  he  motioned  for  the  physician  to 
put  hi-  ear  close  to  his  lips,  and  in  faint  whispers:  "I  am 
John  Wilkes  Booth.  In  my  bosom  you  will  find  a  request 
to  telegraph  * * Bates — "  The  sentence  unfin- 
ished. The  spirit  of  John  Wilkes  Booth  took  its  way  into 
the  mvsterious  unknown.  The  request  referred  to  was  that 
Finis  L.  Bates  of  Memphis.  Tenn.,  be  telegraphed  to  come 
at  o-^ce  that  he  might  identify  the  body  as  John  Wilkes 
Booth. 

Eugene  Watrus,  was  and  is  still  one  of  the  foremost 
citizens  and  business  men  of  the  city.  His  people  have 
honored  him  twice  by  an  election  to  the  State  Sei-ate,  in 
which  he  served  with  exceptional  credit.  In  spaking  of 
the  suiside.  Senator  Wtrous  said  had  he  known  of  the  pur- 
chased from  his  clerk,  Frank  Corey,  he  certainly  woujd  not 
have  let  the  man  have  the  second  dose. 


BATES  THE  PIONEER  BOOTH  FAMILY 

Soon  after  the  appearance  of  Historia,  October,  1919 
issue,  the  editor  was  told  that  one  Finis  L.  Bates,  an  attor- 
ney at  Memphis,  Tenn.,  had  gotten  out  a  book  on  the 
Booth  matter.  A  copy  of  Historia  was  at  once  sent  to 
Mr.  Bates  followed  by  a  letter  requestinj;  a  copy  of  the 
book  with  offer  to  remit  for  same.  Not  hearing  anything 
from  the  matter  for  a  number  of  months  a  second  letter 
was  sent  in  which  it  was  stated  that  the  writer  had  since 
run  across  additional  notes  taken  during  the  Waukomis 
visit  and  recalled  a  number  of  incidents  in  addition  to  those 
contained  in  Historia,  and  that  the  same  were  at  his,  Mr. 
Bates',  service  should  he  desire  them.  This  letter  met  the 
same  silence  as  did  the  first  and  the  matter  was  dropped  so 
far  as  attempting  to  get  action  upon  Mr.  Bates  was  con- 
cerned. Meantime,  however,  brief  notes  and  clippings  kept 
coming  in.  some  of  the  latter  without  indication  as  to  the 
source.     One  clipping  was  from  the  Boston  Globe  of  Decern- 


WANDERINGS  OF  J.  WILKES  BOOTH  101 

ber  12,  1897.     Another   (from  Hon.  Rollin  Britten  of  Kan- 
sas   City)    containing    clippings    of    Mrs.    Chapman's    state- 
ment.    One   from    a   Fredericksburg,   Va.,   firm   with    a   few 
names  from  whom  information  might  be  secured.     One  from 
the  Baltimore  American  containing  a  public  statement  from 
those  attending  the  ceremonies  in  burying  the  body  supposed 
to  be  Booth's  in  Green  Mound  Cemetery,  Baltimore,  includ- 
ing a  statement  from  the  proprietor  of  Ford's  theatre   and 
his     doorkeeper.       (See     subsequent     statement     from     Mr. 
Maxey  practically   counter  to   the  first.)      A   most   valuable 
asset  came  from   Enid   which   included   a   few   stray  leaves 
from  the  Bates  book  and  a  number  of  portraits  and  views 
evidently  contained  in  the  same  volume,   and   a  manuscript 
(typewritten)    volume   by   Hon.   Edmond   Franz.     All   these 
were   preserved   with   a   possible   view   of   future   utilization. 
Thus  until  something  over  a  year  ago  when  a  young  man 
came   here   in    search    of   material    for    a   second    edition    of 
the   Bates  book   and   said   he   had   been   directed   to   call    on 
the  writer  for  any  additional  data  he  might  have.     He  said 
Mr.    Bates   had    received   Historia    and    the    letters    referred 
to,   and   he,   the   young   man   herein,   supposed   their   receipt 
had    been    acknowledged.     He    was    furnished    all    the    addi- 
tional data  availabel   from  this  end,  with   a  pledge  that  he 
would   see   that   a   copy   of   Mr.    Bates'   book   would  be   sent 
at    once    and    one    of   the    new    edition    as    soon    as   printed. 
But  nothing  further  was  heard  from  either  the  young  man 
or   Bates,   nor  was   any   copy   of  the   book   received.     How- 
ever,   the    writer    began    research    for    additional    material, 
writing  to  every  one  from  whom  any  information  might  be 
secured,  including  departments   at  Washington.     The  result 
was    that    sufficient    material    was    collected    to    induce    the 
writer  to  get  out  a  book  on  his  own  account,  making  good 
use  of  the   clippings,  brief   notes,   stray  leaves   referred   to, 
and    interviews    with    numerous   persons    of   El    Reno,    Hen- 
nessey,  Enid    and    Oklahoma    City.     With   his   volume   com- 
pleted the   matter  was   put  in   type.     After  the   appearance 
of  Historia.  issue  of  July,  1922,  containing  an  advance  sec- 
tion of  the  book,  Mr.  W.  J.  Moore  of  Oklahoma  City  having 
read   the   same   brought   in    one    of   the   Bates   books    which 
he  had  secured  while  visiting  in  Memphis.     He  says  that  he 
and   Mr.    Bates   were   old   neighbors   and   close   friends   back 
in    Tennessee:    that    while    on    a    visit   thc-e   two    years    ago 
he   was   privileged   to   see    the   cadavar   of   Booth    which,    it 
seems,  was  shipped  to  Bates  soon  after  Pennyman,  the  Enid 
undertaker,  moved  to  Indinm. 

There  are  but  few  substantial  masters  in  the  Bates 
volume  not  contained  in  this  volume.  However,  there  are 
some  with  which  license  is  taken  in  the  way  of  a  sort  of 
adendum.     In   the   Bates  book   considerable   space   is  taken 


102  WANDERINGS  OF  J.  WILKES  BOOTH 

up  with  a  review  of  the  life  and  character  of  Lincoln  and 
of  the  Booths  which  is  such  universal  historic  note  that  it 
will  be  omitted  in  this  volume;  except  to  say  that  the 
unfortunate  John  Wilkes  Booth  came  from  histrionic  stock 
on  his  father'ss  side.  The  elder  Booth — grandfather  of  the 
subject,  was  probably  the  most  renowned  Hamlet  the  stage 
has  ever  produced.  John  Wilkes'  father  was  Junius  Booth 
the  eldest,  famous  in  his  day  as  a  tragedian.  Two  brothers 
— Junius  Brutus  and  Edwin  were  exceptionals  on  the  stage. 
Another  brother  was  Sidney  Booth.  Other  relatives  in- 
cluded Dr.  Booth,  Creston  Clarke,  a  noted  Hamlet  of  the 
90's;  Sister,  Asia,  who  had  two  daughters — Dollie  Clarke 
Morgan  of  New  York  and  Advienne  Clarke  of  Brighton, 
England.  Agnez  Booth  was  generally  accredited  as  a  sister 
of  John  Wilkes,  but  such  was  not  the  case.  She  was  a 
Scandinavian  young  woman  of  great  charm  and  possessed 
of  stage  talent.  After  securing  a  divorce  from  her  hus- 
band, named  Perry,  she  married  Junius  Booth,  brother  of 
John  Wilkes,  a  son  being  born,  Junius  Brutus  Booth,  Jr. 
On  his  mother's  side,  the  great-grand-father  was  John 
Wilkes,  the  eminent  British  reformer,  which  as  Lord  Mayor 
of  London  conveyed  the  right  of  suffrage  to  the  common 
people.  He  was  noted  as  the  most  unhandsome  man  in  all 
Europe,  but  through  that  uncouth  exterior  shone  a  soul 
so  full  of  the  sunlight  of  human  sympathy  and  love  that 
gave  halo  to  the  face  and  form.  Mrs.  John  Wilkes,  on  the 
other  hand,  was  renowned  for  her  exquisite  tieauty.  It  was 
from  this  pair  of  opposites  originated  the  saying:  "Be&uty 
and  the  Beast."  The  assocites  of  Booth  numbered  among 
them  the  most  eminent  actors  of  the  day,  and  some  of 
them  yet  stand  out  as  pre-eminents  of  histrionic  favor — 
McCullum,  Joe  Jefferson  in  such  plays  as  the  "Marble 
Heart,"  Hamlet,  etc.  Clara  Morris,  the  subsequent  famous 
nun  of  charity  and  love,  as  Generieve  in  the  Two  Orphans. 
Charles  W.  Bishop,  Blanche  Chapman  in  Why  Smith  Left 
Home.      But  the  list  would  prove  tedious. 

Mr.  Bates  certainly  handled  his  subject  with  wonderful 
tact,  displaying  a  faculty  for  getting  at  the  bottom  of 
things.  Throughout  the  volume  creeps  unmistakable  evi- 
dences of  pains-taking  and  perseverance,  and  genius  in 
selection  and  sequential  arrangement,  with  clever  arguments 
and  criticisms.  Notwithstanding  Mr.  Bates  ignored  all  cor- 
respondence and  at  least  intended  favors  from  the  writer, 
it  is  deemed  but  just  to  pay  this  compliment  to  the  con- 
ceded pioneer  of  systematic  effort  to  unravel  the  Booth 
mysstery.  Indeed  his  stray  leaves  aided  much  in  the  prep- 
aration of  this  volume  and  saved  the  author  much  time  and 
correspondence.  There  is  one  item  in  the  Bates  volume, 
however,  that,  is  somewhat  susceptible   of  criticism.     After 


WANDERINGS  OF  J.  WILKES  BOOTH  103 

having  his  client  and  friend  "John  St.  Htlen"  aver  on  a 
supposed  death-bed  that  the  first  time  any  idea  of  killing 
the  president  entered  his  brain  was  only  a  few  hours  before 
its  consummation;  then  Mr.  Bates  digs  up  an  inscription 
written  fully  a  year  previous  to  that  time  (1865)  in  which 
the  life  of  the  president  is  threatened,  and  the  inscription 
declared  to  be  in  Booth's  handwriting.  Thus,  unwittingly, 
perhaps,  rather  than  intentionally,  discrediting  that  portion 
of  his  client  and  friend's  confesssion.  Another  criticism  lies 
in  the  fact  that  after  accepting  thi*.  confession  under  a 
snlenin  pledge  of  secrecy  until  the  author  of  it  should  be 
dead  and  beyond  the  possible  pale  of  vengeance,  Mr.  Bates,, 
his  client  and  friend  still  alive,  deliberately  notifies  the 
department  at  Washington  through  inquiring  whether  or 
not  information  that  Booth  was  not  killed  at  the  Garrett 
home  but  was  at  that  time  (1898)  still  alive.  Notwith- 
standing Judge  Advocate  John  P.  Simonton  wrote  (as  an 
individual)  that  while  he  had  no  direct  or  positive  proof 
that  the  man  killed  at  the  Garrett  home  was  Booth  any 
information  to  the  contrary  would  be  of  no  interest.  Mr. 
Bates  continued  to  press  the  matter  by  a  second  letter  to 
the  department,  receiving  from  Judge  Advocate  General 
G.  Norman  Lieber  practically  the  same  reply,  and  diplo- 
matically suggesting  that  the  matter  there  end.  The  nuerv 
might  not  be  altogether  impertinent:  Suppose  the  depart- 
ment had  expressed  desire  to  receive  Mr.  Bates'  proffered 
proof  that  Booth  still  lived.  What  then?  Did  Mr.  Bates 
have  in  mind  the  violation  of  his  pledge  of  secrecy?  Of 
commercializing  the  secret  by  turning  his  client  and  friend 
who  had  placed  such  confidence  in  him,  over  to  th''  aveng- 
ing hnnd  of  mercenary  man-hunters?  The  charitable  con- 
clusion may  be  that  Mr.  Bates  merely  chose  this  manner  of 
seeming  betrayal  for  the  purpose  of  drawing  from  the 
government  what  it  knew  in  the  premises.  Yet  it  would 
seem  that  Mr.  Bates,  being  a  lawyer,  might  have  adopted  a 
less  hazardous  way,  such  as  simply  calling  upon  the  depart- 
ment for  what  evidence  it  had,  etc.  But  after  all,  the  writer 
prefers  to  concede  to  Mr.  Bates  only  the  most  serious  and 
conscientious  motives,  with  no  thought  of  betrayal  of  his 
client   and  friend  for  commercial   or  any  other  reason. 


BOOTH    AS   AN    EVANGELIST? 

During  the  90's  Mr.  W.  H.  Holmes  of  Oklahoma  City 
was  at  the  head  of  an  opera  company,  he  doing  high  tenor 
and  his  wife  sopranno.  In  either  1892  or  1893  he  and  the 
madam  were  at  Atlanta.  Ga.,  and  attended  and  sang  In  the 
choir  at  a  revival  then  under  fall  blaze  directed  by  an  itin- 
erant evangelist  calling  himself  David  Armstrong  and  who 


106 


WANDERINGS  OF  J.  WILKES  BOOTH 


CROSSED  THE  PLAINS  WITH  BOOTH 

Through  courtesy  of  the  son — Finis,  this  volume  con- 
tains a  family  grouping  of  Levi  Thrailkell  with  whom  the 
Enid  suicide  crossed  the  plainss  as  a  teamster  in  1867  or 
1868.     Mr.  Thrailkell  was  a  native  of  Holt  county.  Mo.,  an 


Family  Group   of  Tevi  Thrailkell 


early-day  merchant  at  Caldwell,  Kansas.  Moved  to  the 
Strip  in  1893  and  secured  a  homestead  adjoining  Enid. 
He  was  a  confederate  during  the  late  war  between  the 
States.  Died  at  Enid  three  years  ago.  The  son  with  his 
little  family  reside  in  Enid,  but  are  preparing  to  move  to 
the  western  part  of  Oklahoma.  The  grouping  takes  in  Mr. 
and  Mrs.  Thrailkell,  daughter  Ruth  (Hope),  son  Finis  and 
wife,  Mabel  (Bussard),  an  extremely  beautiful  Oklahoma 
product,  likely  in  face  and  figure  and  capable  of  throwing 
a  movie  smile  that  would  make  one  of  Mary  Pickford's 
supremest  efforts  look  like  a  mere  stage  grin.  Mr|  Finis 
Thrailkell  and  his  wife  are  very  devoted  and  take  great 
pleasure  in  their  home  and  their  little  "sister"  also  shown 
in  the  grouping. 


WANDERINGS  OF  J.  WILKES  BOOTH  107 

STOOD  ON  THE  BRIDGE  AT  MIDNIGHT 

Sergeant  Cobb  was  a  witness  in 
the  conspiracy  court  and  identified 
Herold  as  one  of  the  parties  who 
crossed  the  bridge.  No  possible 
blame  attaches  to  the  two  sergeants 
for  permitting  the  refugees  to  cross; 
for  they  were  in  possession  of  the 
pass  word;  nor  were  they  to  blame 
for  refusing  to  permit  "the  only  hon- 
est man  of  the  three"  to  cross,  as  he 
did  not  have  the  pass-word,  and 
when  this  was  given  the  sergeants  had  no  alternative.  The 
same  is  true  as  to  the  third  party  whom  Secretary  Hays 
designated  as  the  "only  honest  man  of  the  three,"  because 
he  had  neither  the  pass  word  nor  the  key,  and  these  two 
young  men  were  under  orders  and  would  have  been  liable 
to  punishment  for  disobeying  instructions  had  they  passed 
the  "only  honest  man  of  the  three."  They  were  there  to 
obey  orders  and  not  as  aliens  to  pass  on  midnight  men's 
morals;  and  their  subsequent  record  shows  that  they  were 
true  soldiers   to  the  core. 

Sergeant  Silas  T.  Cobb  who  with  Sergeant  F.  A.  De- 
mond  raised  the  gate  to  let  Booth  and  Herold  cross  the 
Potomac  after  the  tragedy  was  a  star  witness  in  the  con- 
spiracy trial?  The  password  used  was  from  a  station 
known  as  "T  B,"  about  five  miles  out  from  Surrattsville, 
and  the  road  leading  thereto  is  known  as  the  "T  B  Road." 
The  party  not  permitted  to  cross  referred  to  by  Secretary 
Hay  as  "the  only  honest  man  of  three,"  was  John  Fletcher 
in  charge  of  the  livery  stables  owned  by  N.  A.  Naylor,  re- 
lative of  Harold,  where  Booth  kept  his  horse.  Fletch  had 
hired  a  roan  horse  to  Herold  who  agreed  to  return  it  not 
later  than  ten  o'clock  that  night  (of  the  tragedy)  but  who 
instead  made  his  get-away  on  the  said  roan.  Young  Her- 
old was  evidently  a  trifle  pressed  for  the  long  green  as  he 
tried  hard  to  jew  Fletcher  down  a  dollar,  but  the  Shylock 
liveryman  insisted  on  his  pound  of  flesh  and  said — "five 
plunks  or  no  horse." 


According  to  various  statements  by  eminent  men  Booth 
was  buried  in  as  many  places  as  thfe  proverbial  cat.  By 
Dana  in  the  navy  yard  where  a  battery  of  artillerj'  was 
drawn  over  the  sepulcher  to  obliterate  where  it  was.  Ac- 
cording to  Lew  Wallace,  Judge  Advocate  who  tried  Herrold 
and  the  other  conspirators,  the  body  of  Booth  was  buried 
in  a  room  of  the  old  jail  in  the  penitentiary  where  it  laid 
for  several  years — until  exhumed  and  sent  to  Baltimore. 
According   to    Woodward    it   was    taken    seven    miles    down 


108  WANDERINGS  OF  J.  WILKES  BOOTH 

the  Potomac  and  sunk  in  the  river.  According  to  another 
the  body  was  transferred  from  the  John  S.  Ide  to  a  boat 
and  taken  to  an  island  twenty-seven  miles  from  Washington 
and  there  buried.  Still  another  had  a  hole  dug  on  a  sand 
bar  and  the  body  burned  with  quick  lime.  And,  mind  you, 
each  and  every  one  of  these  undertakers  was  positive,  speak- 
ing from  personal  knowledge.  And,  too,  it  may  seem  a 
trifle  strange  when  you  reflect  that  the  body  of  the  Garrett 
home  victim  was  not  exposed  to  view  for  the  purpose  of 
identification  when  there  were  thousands  who  could  have 
done  so  and  forever  put  to  rest  any  doubt. 


STATESMAN   AND   PATRIOT  JUST   THE   SAME 

Lew  Wallace,  then  being  the  only  living  member  of 
the  military  court  which  tried  and  convicted  Herrold,  Mrs. 
Surratt,  and  others,  wrote  under  date  of  January  25,  1898, 
that  to  his  "certain  knowledge"  the  body  of  John  Wilkes 
Booth  was  buried  in  a  room  of  the  old  penitentiary  prison; 
that  after  a  time  at  the  request  of  friends,  the  remains 
were  taken  up  and  transferred  to  Baltimore  when  they  now 
lie  "under  a  handsome  marble  monument  erected  to  his 
memory,"   etc. 

Lew  Wallace  was  not  extremely  warm-blooded. 
Smouldering,  calculating  eye,  coarse  visage  and  hair  which 
in  his  younger  days  was  worn  to  his  shoulders;  crisp,  of 
iron  nerve,  playful  conscience  and  strong  convictions  easily 
changed.  Tlie  first  political  speech  the  writer  ever  heard 
was  by  Lew  Wallace  who  was  (1852)  democratic  candidate 
for  the  Indiana  state  senate,  Crawfordsville  district,  against 
Dr.  Fry;  while  Dan  Voorhies,  even  then  in  his  youth  known 
as  the  "Tall  Sycamore  of  the  Wabash,"  was  democratic 
candidate  for  the  lower  house  against  Tom  Wilson.  Hand 
written  posters  had  been  tacked  on  school  house  doors  and 
a  few  other  public  places  announcing  that  on  the  coming 
Saturday  night  "The  Honorable  Lew  Wallace"  would  speak 
at  the  Sugar  Creek  school  house,  about  four  miles  out  from 
Crawfordsville;  that  "Hon.  Dan  Voorhies"  would  also  speak. 
That  evening  Brother  Dan  and  the  writer  strided  one  of 
father's  horses,  Dan  in  front,  and  hiked  off  to  hear  our 
first  political  speech.  The  little  log  school  house  was 
crowded  to  the  roof.  Wallace  was  the  first  speaker,  and 
ascending  the  platform  proceeded  to  shuck  his  kid  gloves 
and  toss  his  hat  to  one  side.  With  his  left  hand  he  clutched 
a  staff  which  reached  from  the  platform  to  the  under  side 
of  the  clapboard  roof.  One  flight  only  is  recalled.  Giving 
his  head  a  jerk  to  sling  his  long  hair  behind  his  ears,  which 
fete  he  frequently  performed,  he  raised  his  eyes  to  heaven 
and  his  good  right  hand  up  toward  the  flag  that  floated  at 


WANDERINGS  OF  J.  WILKES  BOOTH  109 

the  staff  top.  "I  would  rather  sink  and  p:o  down  to  the 
lowest  depths  under  that  glorious  old  banner  of  liberty,'' 
pressing  forward  with  his  toes  at  the  word  liberty,  "than  to 
float  the  highest  tide  on  the  rotten,  damnable" — last  word 
really  damnable, — "leaky  old  craft  of  black  abolitionism." 
The  last  word  with  a  pompous  Jerking  under  the  chin. 
The  Tall  Sycamore  followed  and  received  the  greatest  ova- 
tion, both  before,  during  and  after. 

This  speech  is  recalled  more  vividly  perhaps  on  account 
of  it  being  the  first  the  writer  had  ever  heard,  and  from 
a  little  campaign  jingle  current:  Hark  from  the  tomb, 
a  doleful  sound,  mine  ears  attend  the  cry — Tom  Wilson  now 
is  under  ground,  and  so  is  Doctor  Fry.  Alas,  alas,  that  this 
should  be,  their  hopes  so  soon  to  fade;  big  tears  upon  their 
cheeks  I   see,   and   groans   the   air  pervade. 

Now  comes  into  the  limelight  another  version.  It  is 
from  William  P.  Wood  of  Washington  City,  who  died  in 
1898.  At  the  time  of  the  assassination  Wood  was  in  the 
detective  service  of  the  government  and  was  in  Cincinnati 
when  the  fatal  shot  was  fired.  On  receipt  of  a  special  wire 
by  Secertary  Stanton  he  hastened  to  Washington.  In 
speaking  of  the  burial  of  the  body  of  Booth,  Wood  says 
it  was  taken  from  the  steamer  John  S.  Ide  at  the  wharf 
in  Washington,  April  27,  1865;  that  it  was  then  taken  from 
the  steamer  by  Capt.  Baker  and  his  nephew,  Lieut.  Baker 
of  the  N.  Y.  71st  Volunteers,  and  transferred  to  a  boat 
and  taken  down  the  Potomac  and  to  an  island  27  miles 
out  from  Washington  and  buried  there. 

There  are  numerous  mysteries  surrounding  the  wliole 
Booth  affair.  For  instance  of  the  several  hundred  thousand 
dollars  reward  not  one  cent  of  it  was  ever  claimed  much 
less  paid.  Again,  there  were  thousands  in  Washington  City 
who  knew  Booth  and  who  could  have  readily  identified 
him;  but  for  some  reason  none  were  permitted  to  see  the 
body  except  just  one  person — Gen.  Dana  who  never  saw 
Booth  alive.  Still  again.  It  will  be  recalled  that  one  of 
the  main  identifying  features  of  Booth  when  taken  up  from 
the    old    penitentiary    or    jail    prison    for    reburial    in    the 

cemetery  at  Baltimore  was  that  when  the  boot  was  attempt- 
ed to  be  withdrawn  from  the  right  foot  the  leg  came  off 
with  it.  Whereas  it  is  of  record  that  Booth  wore  no  boot 
on  the  injured  leg;  that  Dr.  Mudd  had  removed  it  and 
at  the  very  time  when  this  was  accepted  as  testimony  that 
the  exhumed  body  was  that  of  Booth  the  identical  boot  was 
on  exhibition  in  the  National  Museum  in  Washington  City. 


110 


WANDERINGS  OF  J.  WILKES  BOOTH 


HERALD'S   SISTER 

Miss  Cassie  Ferguson  writes 
from  Baltimore  that  not  long 
since  among  a  lot  of  old 
papers  secured  at  the  Amer- 
ican office  for  "reading  mat- 
ter" and  carpet  underwear, 
was  a  copy  of  a  paper  called 
Historia,  in  which  "I  notice 
you  are  getting  up  a  book 
about  the  Booth  escape.  I 
was  awfully  interested  In  It, 
because  my  uncle  was  a  near 
nL'ijThbor  to  the  Herolds  who 
you  mention.  He  says  they  were  mighty  clever  good  peo- 
ple, kind  and  best  of  neighbors.  In  an  old  scrap  book  I 
found  some  pictures  and  one  of  them  I  send  you  as  you 
may  want  to  use  it.  This  is  one  of  David  Herold's  sisters, 
the  youngest,  I  believe,  who,  uncle  says  died  from  grief  soon 
after  her  brother  was  hung.  Isn't  it  terrible  that  a  mother, 
and  sister  must  be  the  ones  to  suffer  just  because  some 
one  has  led  their  boy  or  brother  astray?  For  my  uncle  says 
Davy  wasn't  a  vicious  boy,  only  sort  of  frivolous  and  con- 
.fiding.  The  family  was  always  afraid  some  one  would  lead 
him  into  trouble  and  his  folks  into  sorrow.  And  this  is  what 
was  done  to  poor  Davy  Herold.  My  uncle  Calement  has  an 
office  in  Washington  and  spends  most  of  his  time  there. 
If  you  want  him  to  and  will  write  I  am  sure  he  will  be  glad 
to  write  you  somethini:  about  Booth  who  he  always  said 
was  never  captured." 


BOOTH   AS   A   FENCER 

In  1906 — possibly  a  year  or  so  later — while  talking  with 
Charley  Scouten,  an  old  Kansas  friend  then  living  in  EI 
Reno,  a  member  of  the  Knights,  in  regalia,  came  up  and 
made  a  few  good  natured  passes  at  me  with  his  sword. 
"This  reminds  me,"  said  Charley  of  a  little  incident  at  the 
depot  five  or  six  years  ago.  A  couple  of  lieutenants  from 
the  fort  were  on  the  platform  waiting  for  a  south-bound 
train  and  were  putting  in  time  at  sword  parrying.  Among 
Ihe  lookers-on  was  a  fine  looking  fellow  who  had  been 
hanging  around  El  Reno  for  a  few  years,  known  to  some 
extent  as  "the  Bard  of  Avon,"  owing  to  the  eloquence  he 
was  able  to  throw  into  passages  from  Shakespeare  and 
other  classics.  He  became  interested  almost  to  excitement 
and  kept  dodging  about  interferring  as  an  umpire  trying 
to   keep    tab    on    the   plays.     "Maybe   you'd   like    a    bite    at 


WANDERINGS  OF  J.  WILKES  BOOTH  HI 


this,  old  chap,"  said  one  of  the  soldiers  in  a  rather  aggra- 
vated tone.  For  a  moment  the  "bard"  looked  daggers,  and 
snapped  out:  "Old  chap!"  but  soon  recovered  and  without 
further  word  reached  for  the  sword  held  by  the  other 
soldier  who  readily  turned  it  over.  The  "bard"  gave  the 
sword  a  cursory  survey  including  metal-test  bend.  Then 
with  left  hand  behind  him  and  sworn  in  the  right  he  began 
with  a  few  fancy  flourishes  and  in  an  instant  was  in  tiercing 
position,  with:  "Come  after  it — YOUNG  chap,  good  and 
hard;  for  that's  the  way  I'm  going  after  you."  But  few 
passes  until  the  lieutenant  was  fairly  "under  the  ropes." 
With  a  look  of  vengeance  he  raised  his  sword  as  if  to  make 
a  down  plunge  at  his  rival;  but  in  an  instant — snap!  and 
the  lieutenant's  sword  was  in  two  parts.  Withoua  a  word 
the  "bard"  stabbed  his  sword  into  the  platform  boards  and 
leant  on  his  hands  resting  on  the  sword  hilt,  as  he  gave 
his  mustache  a  twist  and  looked  his  antagonist  square  in 
the  eye  with  a  sort  of  humorous  twinkle.  After  a  moment 
thus  he  straightened  up  as  if  to  draw  the  sword  from  its 
board  fastenings,  with:  "Perhaps — YOUNG  chap,  we  had 
better  change  swords.  It  would  be  about  the  even  thing — " 
But  .iust  then  another  snap!  and  there  were  two  woulded 
swords  each  broken  in  about  the  middle.  "Well,  providence 
was  always  considered  a  gentleman  of  equity,"  as  he  exam- 
ined the  shared  sword.  "We  are  now  on  equal  footing,"  as 
he  squared  as  if  to  continue  the  contest.  "No!  Thanks! 
I've  had  my  lesson  and  will  never  call  you  an  'old'  chap 
again.  You're  the  real  game  and  can  wear  the  belt." 
"Well,  so  be  it;  but  suppose  we  step  over  the  way  and  have 
our  friend  here,"  patting  Scouten  on  the  shoulder,  "find 
something  to  make  us  forget  it."  But  just  then  the  train 
pulled  in  and  the  two  uniforms  with  sharded  swords  got 
aboard  for  some  point  west — perhaps  Fort  Sill.  Just  then 
Abe  Rhoades  who  owned  the  largest  bar  in  El  Reno,  joined, 
and  Scouten  started  to  repeat  the  depot  scene.  "No  need," 
said  Abe.  "I  was  there,  and  as  soon  as  the  challenge  was 
accepted  I  knew  what  would  happen.  The  citizen  was  the 
man  George  who  killed  himself  at  Enid.  I  had  seen  him 
do  a  few  stunts  before.  He  told  me  once  that  he  came  near 
becoming  a  "spirit"  as  he  said,  by  fooling  with  a  sword." 
(In  this  connection  it  may  be  noted  that  Booth,  wore  a 
scar  and  one  eye  slightly  dropped  from  a  wound  gotten 
during  a  stage  bout  with  McCullom."> 


112  WANDERINGS  OF  J.  WILKES  BOOTH 

ROBY'S  BROTHER  STILL  LIVING 

A  brother  of  Hamilton  Roby  sometimes  referred  to 
as  Roddy,  Rowdy,  or  Boyd,  is  still  living  some  thirty 
miles  out  from  Washington  not  far  from  Laurel,  Md.  This 
brother  recalls  quite  vividly  the  Garrett  farm  tragedy 
wherein  all  trace  of  his  brother  Hamilton  was  lost — "Who 
possibly  paid  vicarious  sacrifice."  The  writer  not  knowing 
the  brother's  popstoffice  address  has  been  unable  to  get  in 
direct  touch  with  him.  Mr.  Jed  Bliss  of  Bowling  Green 
was  cited  to  and  a  letter  was  sent  him,  but  it  seems  he 
was  absent  and  after  about  despairing  of  ever  getting  a 
reply,  Mr.  Bliss  writes  from  New  Orleans:  "Your  letter 
after  chasing  me  about — to  Mobile,  then  forwarded  here 
is  at  last  to  hand.  I  regret  that  I  can  not  recall  the  post 
office  of  the  gentleman  to  whom  you  refer,  but  may  be 
able  to  do  so  when  I  reach  home,  not  before  the  last  of 
October.  I  only  know  that  he  is  a  brother  of  Hamilton 
Roby  who  is  said  to  have  been  the  party  who  with  Jirn 
Thornton  was  at  the  time  working  on  Captain  Sam  Cox's 
farm  out  a  ways  from  Mathias  Point  and  who  in  company 
with  the  Captain's  brother-in-law,  Gib  Jones,  secreted  Booth 
in  a  thicket  and  carried  grub  to  him  until  other  arrange- 
ments could  be  made.  He  is  said  to  have  gone  by  a  num- 
ber of  aliases  for  some  unknown  reason  and  never  without 
arms — an  intelligent  fellow,  but  frightfululy  profane.  Roby 
is  also  supposed  to  be  the  party  with  whom  Booth  nego- 
tiated for  safe  escort  to  Mosby's  camp,  giving  him  a. check 
on  a  Canadian  bank  for  pay.  Sorry  I  did  not  get  the 
paper  you  say  you  sent — Historia,  but  presume  I  will  get 
it  on  my  return." 


While  looking  up  days  in  Enid  for  this  volume  Hon. 
Edmond  Franz,  one  of  the  large  property  owners  of  Gar- 
field county,  presented  a  typewritten  article  which  he  pre- 
pared and  read  before  the  literary  club  of  that  city  a  year 
or  so  ago,  made  up  exclusively  of  the  George  suicide. 
This  manuscript  contains  from  12,000  to  15,000  words  and 
would  make  quite  a  volume.  It  is  exhausive  data  of  the 
tragedy  until  the  suicide  at  Enid.  But  there  is  nothing  in 
it  that  has  not  been  secured  through  other  sources,  save  a 
few  expressions  from  Enid  people  and  a  number  of  con- 
clusions by  the  author — these  being  logical  and  decidedly 
pointed.  Mr.  Franz  could  well  afford  to  have  his  little 
volume  gotten  out  in  book  form,  and  it  would  need  scarcely 
and  "editing"  being  so  cleverly  and  ingeniously  written  and 
arranged. 


WANDERINGS  OF  J    WILKES  BOOTH 


113 


ACTOR  PAYS  COMPLIMENTS  TO  THE  BOOTHS 

Through  the  courtesy  of  Hon.  George  Horace  Larimer, 
editor  of  that  excellent  American  magazine,  printed  with 
exceptional  editorial  genius  and  discretion,  the  Saturday 
Evening  Post,  a  copy  of  the  issue  of  August  20,  1920,  has 
been  received.  This  number  was  specially  desired  on  ac- 
count of  an  article  written  by  Mr.  Jefferson  Winter,  a  well- 
known  actor,  wherein  the  Booth  family  forms  the  prin- 
ciple text.  While  John  Wilkes  Booth  and  others  of  the 
family  receive  considerate  at- 
tention, the  greater  part  of  | 
the  article,  making  several 
pages  of  the  Post,  is  confin<>(l 
to  the  stage  and  domestic 
career  of  Edwin  Booth.  It  is 
one  of  the  finest  sketches  ever 
penned  by  any  member  of  the 
iiistronic  profession — a  real 
reminiscent  eulogy,  fairly  sub- 
lime from  first  curtain  to  fin;i) 
climax.  No  more  excellent 
tribute  was  ever  pair  to  any 
member  of  the  footlight  craft, 
and  it  betrays  a  gift  in  words, 
selection  and  painting  and 
in  happy  arrangement  seldom 
possessed  by  the  actor.  While 
Mr.  Winter  was  at  the  time  of 
the  great  sad  tragedy  lyina 
on  the  parlor  floor  on  his  back 
dressed  in  a  diaper  and 
sucking  Edwin  Booth's  thumb 
cotic,"  he  has  evidently  madi^ 
vast  research,  and  being  him- 
self one  of  the  most  eminent 
actors  on  the  American  stage 
has  put  him  in  touch  of  every 
avenue     that     leads     to      and 

from  the  footlights,  and  therefore  gives  to  his  reminis- 
cences added  interest.  In  this  sketch  the  now  niVtionall.y 
known  tragedian  has  contributed  a  real  gem  to  the  literary 
pages  of  histronic  character.  The  story  is  well-balanced 
with  portraits  of  Edwin  Booth.  One  of  these  in  his  favor 
it  a  bust  pose  in  which  he  has  often  "set"  for  a  profile; 
another  shows  him  seated,  with  his  little  daughter  Edwina 
at  his  side  standing  with  one  arm  affectionately  around  her 
fallier'?  f^h' ulder,  her  right  had  clasped  in  his  left,  both 
looking  ou':—  '^lif>  with  such  bewitching  sweetness  and  he  in 


114  WANDERINGS  OF  J.  WILKES  BOOTH 


that  dear  solemn  calm  yet  with  a  usual  sunlit  smile  fairly 
ineffable.  This  picture  was  taken  in  1864;  "with  Elsie 
Leslie,  the  Original  Little  Lord  Fontelroy,"  in  1889.  The 
third  represents  Mr.  Booth  seated  with  his  little  son  be- 
tween his  knees  looking  up  with  filial  pride  and  evidently 
drinking  in  some  lesson  of  noble  promptings.  The  last  is 
a   standing  figure   as   shown   in   this   item. 


A  MISTAKEN  NOTION  PREVAILS 

A  statement  is  frequently  made — one  to  the  writer 
as  late  as  the  present  year  October  (1922)  that  every  person 
who  ever  attempted  the  life  of  any  of  our  Presidents  was 
a  Catholic.  Some  of  these  .statements  are  the  result  of 
ignorance — inexcusable  ignorance,  but  most  of  them  are 
made  through  downright  and  milicious  intent  by  those  who 
know  better.  Two  attempts  were  made  on  the  life  of  Jack- 
son, in  both  cases  by  parties  of  his  own  politics  and  religious 
faith.  Lawrence  was  an  English  Congregationalist  and  a 
supporter  nf  Jackson  for  the  presidency.  Booth  who  shot 
President  Lincoln  was  a  Catholic.  Azterodt's  shrine  was 
the  saloon  bar,  his  gnd  the  demijohn,  in  whos?  worship  he 
was  so  persistent  and  continuous  that  the  Quaker  received 
little  of  his  attention.  Payne — (Powell)  poor  ill-environed 
was  born  in  Alabama,  taken  to  Georgia  and  thence  to  Live 
Oaks,  Fla,  where  the  father.  Rev.  George  W.  Powell,  was 
pastor   of   the   Baptist   church    at   the   time   of   the   tragedy. 

'Mrs.  Surratt  adhered  to  the  Catholic  faith,  but 
as  she  nor  any  of  the  other  "conspirators"  had  any- 
thing to  do  with  the  killing  of  President  Lincoln  they  can 
be  consistently  passed.  Guitteau  was  a  Presbyterian  mem- 
ber of  the  Oneida  Colony  and  stumped  his  state  for  the 
man  he  killed.  Golcos'  father  was  an  Ohio  town  marshal 
and  a  Methodist.  The  son  was  a  member  of  the  Young 
Men's  Republican  club,  etc.  The  fact  is,  neither  race, 
politics  nor  religious  faith  had  anything  whatever  to  do 
with   the   matter. 


An  effort  was  made  to  get  the  name  of  the  party  pros- 
ecuted at  Tyler,  Texas,  in  1877-8,  for  selling  liquor  at 
Glen  Rose  Mills  without  a  license  when  in  fact  "St.  Helen" 
was  the  real  offender;  but  Deputy  U.  S.  District  Clerk 
Geo.  C.  Burruss  writes  that  every  vestige  of  the  records 
were  destroyed  by  fire  that  same  year. 


WANDERINGS  OF  J.  WILKES  BOOTH  115 

A  TOUCH  OF  ROMANCE 

Theatre-goers  of  Oklahoma  City  who  were  here  during 
the  season  of  1900-1  will  doubtless  recall  among  the 
dramatic  troops  playing  this  circuit,  the  Charley  Stater 
company  starring  Miss  Varsey  as  leading  woman  and  her 
husband,  Walter  Frain,  doin  gmale  leads.  Miss  Varsey  was 
a  young  woman  of  remarkable  beauty,  of  matchless  grace, 
and  possessed  of  the  most  immaculate  charms — a  happy 
compromise  between  the  brunette  and  blonde  types,  long 
Tiowing  hair,  thrilling  bust,  large  lustrous  eyes.  She  was  not 
only  clever  as  an  actress,  but  also  did  acrobatic  turns  which 
added  the  heroic  to  the  romantic.  While  making  head- 
quarters at  El  Reno  one  of  her  greatest  admirers  was  a 
man  of  perhaps  forty-five,  though  so  well  preserved  he 
might  have  been  taken  for  much  younger.  He  was  about 
five  foot  eight,  weighing  perhaps  170  pounds,  of  rather 
slender  build,  inclined  to  gaze  down  slightly  when  in  con- 
versation except  at  times  when  his  keen  black  eyes  would 
lock  the  listener  square  in  the  eye-to-eye  with  significant 
searching.  His  hair  was  jet  black,  rather  silky  and  inclined 
to  wave  at  the  bottom,  near  the  shoulders.  In  conversation 
he  was  the  perfection  of  suavity  and  good  breeding,  every 
evidence  of  a  man  of  high  culture  and  polish,  melodious 
voice  full  of  sweet  flowing,  and  withal  a  most  magnetic 
personality.  He,  in  fact,  became  desperately  infatuated 
with  the  beautiful  Miss  Varsey,  and  undertook  to  write  a 
drama  with  her  as  the  leading  lady  and  himself  as 
main  support.  During  an  engagement  at  the  Overholser  in 
Oklahoma  City  the  fond  amour  came  in  with  the  company, 
but  kept  almost  painfully  aloof  from  any  of  the  member*, 
even  his  dear  charmer  except  at  rehearsals  of  the  part  she 
was  to  take.  He  registered  at  the  Grand  Avenue  hotel 
under  the  single  name — "Devoli,"  and  was  understood  as 
being  from  Milan,  Italy,  although  betraying  not  the  least 
trace  of  Italian  in  either  manner  or  language,  except  that 
he  was  of  the  Italian  brunette  cast,  commanded  the  dialect 
fairly  well  and  possessed  the  proverbial  pleasing  polish  of 
the  elite  of  Roman.  Except  at  ]ii""]i  li  n-  n^r'  nt  "^li^a'-sals 
where  but  a  very  few  select  were  admitted  he  kept  close 
to  his  room,  his  bosom  companion  being  one  Johnny  Her- 
mirage  of  which  he  seemed  fond,  although  during-  his  stay 
here  he  did  not  let  his  "liquid  chum"  get  the  best  of  him. 
This  was  David  E.  George  wjieri  at  Kl  Reno  where  lie  had 
resided  for  two  or  three  years — the  same  unfortunate  man 
who  committed  suicide  at  Enid  in  January,  1903.  The 
v'iter  has  made  strenuous  effort  to  get  a  line  of  the  play 
'^'"rred  to  which  was  to  be  staged  as  "Shadows  of  the 
Past:"  hn*  '-ithout  avail  except  a  few  situations  and  skel- 
letin  lines  on  this  tenor: 


116  WANDERINGS  OF  J.  WILKES  BOOTH 


Parlor.  Devoli  dis.  slowly  pacing  as  he  carefully  twirls 
a  small  cane  in  one  hand  and  twists  at  his  black  imperials 
with  the  other;  now  and  then   a  pause  and  solus  lines. 

"Ah,  me  Lady  Fine!  Me  Lady  Fine!  And  such  eyes! 
So  large  and  glowing — gems  that  ravish  with  their  lustre. 
Orbs  that  give  to  the  luminary  of  day  but  a  pale  radiance." 
Sits  astride  chair  with  face  buried  in  hands,  resting  on 
chair  back  a  moment.  Rouses,  rubs  eyes,  long  sigh.  "Ah 
well!  Me  Lady  Fine!  If  only  she  were  here  now!"  Rises. 
"Yes,  if  she  were  but  here!  Me  Lady  Fine!  To  lead  from 
under  these — shadows  of  the  past.  Me  Lady  Fine!"  Dra- 
matic ecstacy. 

She,    entering:     Did'st    call,    Mosenior    Devoli?" 

He  with  good-hu'.nored  smile  and  cavalier  courtesy. 
"Me  Lady  Fine!     Senior  is  quite   sufficient;  hence — " 

Pete  enters,  stops,  looks  wise.  "Ye'p,  Subflsicant," 
Crossing:  "D — d — drap  de — devil"-  scampers  off  with  coon 
snicker  as  Devoli  casts  withering  glance. 

Then  to  her:  "Did'st  call?  Yes!  To  thee!  To  thee, 
me  Lady  Fine!"  Takes  her  hands:  "I  called  to  the  skies. 
An  angel  came!  Thee!  Thee!"  As  if  to  take  license  she 
finger  to  lips  in  caution.  He:  "Your  pardon!  A  thousand 
pardons!  Not  for  kingdoms  and  crowns — "  Sudden: 
"Porter!  Porter!  Some  wine!  Some  wine!"  Taps  table 
witli  cane  impatient. 

She:     "Art   not   feeling   well.   Senior?" 

He:  "Yes— No!  It  is  here!  It  is  here!"  Head- 
heart.  As  if  slightly  dizzv:  "The  blinds.  The — Porter! 
The  blinds!" 

She  dextrously  turns  curtains  aside,  windows  up.  "See! 
How  beautiful  shines  the  evening  sun." 

He,  recovered:  "Yes;  but  how  dim  compared  with 
thine  own  superior  orbs!  Me  Lad}'  Fine!"  Takes  her 
hands  passionately. 

She  shifts  to  arm-in-arm:     "To  the  garden.  Senior." 

He:  "Yes!  To  the  garden — anywhere  away  from 
these — shadows — -of  the  past." 

She,  diplomatically  unarming:  "Out  there  in  the  open 
where  there  are  no  shadows.  W^here  all  is  light.  Beneath 
the  elms  where  all  is  shade." 

He  as  they  start  off  arm-in-arm:  "To  the  garden!  To 
the  elm  shades!  To  the  end  of  the  world  with  thee,  me 
lady—" 

The  drama  is  said  to  have  been  ingeniously  laid  around 
one  whose  past  is  a  continuous  haunt,  forever  in  the 
"Shadows  of  the  Past."  The  plot  is  set  with  poetic  gems, 
classic  and  thrilling  climax.  Flowing  in  a  harmonious  blend 
rf  lights  with — "Shadows  of  the  past"  which  the  life  of  the 
subject    is    intended    to   portray. 


WANDERINGS  OF  J.  WILKES  BOOTH 


117 


WHAT    DR.    ZIEMANN    REMEMBERS 

Dr.  Chas.  Ziemann  of  Oklahoma  City  says  that  during 
the  late  fall  of  1900  or  early  winter  of  1901  he  saw  Miss 

Varsey,  leading  woman 
in  the  Stater  Company 
who    were     playing    at 
the   Overholser,    ia   one 
cf  hei    emotional   roles, 
and    as    he    remembers 
her   she   was   a  woman 
of      wonderful      charm 
and  beauty,    absolutely 
superb   ii    her    redition 
of   the    part;    in    fact  a 
young  actress   of  strik- 
ingly    fascinating     per- 
sonality. One  afternoon 
while     at     the     Times- 
Journal    office    he    met 
as    he    first    supposed, 
one  of  her  leading  male 
supports,  but  who  prov- 
ed to  be  quite  another 
<kai;icter.     The   stranger  also   possessed  rare   personality 
a  .(1    i/earing.     He    was    dressed    in    a    Prince    Albert    and 
iMther    broad-brimme-i    Stetson    and    wore    an    immaculate 
lie.     His    hair   was    of    silky    texture    worn    to    reach    the 
shoulder,  and  inclined   to  wave  a  trifle.     He   was  a  type 
that  impressed  to  an    extent  that  on   passing  out  I  made 
bold  to  introduce  myself  at  which  he  handed  me  a  small 
card  on  which   was  printed  some  name  I  have  forgotten, 
representative    of    a    dramatic    publication    the    name    of 
which  1  have  also  forgotten.     You  are  just  the  individual 
I'm  looking  for,'  1  remarked,  says  the  doctor.     The  strang- 
er gave  a  peculiar  glance  then  "Well?"  as  if  "The  hell  you 
are"  to  use  the  doctor's  trite  expression.     Glancing  at  the 
card:    "1   see  you   lepresent   a   dramatic   paper."     Another 
"Well,"  when  I  continued.     "I  think  I  could  furnish  you  a 
pretty  good   item."       This     seemed     to     unwrikle     hasty 
brows,  and  the  stranger  at  once  seemed  more  at  ease.     "I 
would  be  pleased  to  look  over  your— item."     With  this  he 
took  me  very   lightly  by   one   shoulder  with:    "Let's   step 
over  to  my  room  and  we  will  investigate  what  you  have." 
At  the  entrance  to  the  bar  of  the  Grand  Avenue  I  suggest- 
ed that  we  might  'lubricate'  as  I  called  it,  before  pioceed- 
ing.     But  the  stranger  in  a  diplomatic  way  excused  him- 
self, remarking  that  while  he  was  in  no  wise  'averse  to  the 
elixir'  he  seldom  ventured  to  a  bar.  but  suggested  that  he 
would  wait  until  I  'lubricated'  which  I  declined  with  the 


I 


118  WANDERINGS  OF  J.  WILKES  BOOTH 

remark  that  I  was  neither  in  particular  need  nor  desire. 
On  ascending  to  the  second,  which  was  the  top  floor,  I  was 
led  down  the  hallway  to  the  extreme  east  end  of  the  build- 
ing where  the  door  was  swung  open  with  a  motion  for  me 
to  proceed,  proffering  a  chair  while  he  took  a  sitting  pos- 
ture on  the  table  corner.  Then  with;  "If  you  will  excuse 
me,"  he  took  from  a  drawer  in  the  dresser  a  flask  of  bead- 
ed fury  and  from  the  mantle  a  tumbler,  remarking  as  he 
poured,  "I  will  introduce  you  to — "  drawing  the  cork 
which  he  held  in  his  mouth  as  he  decantered — "my  bosom 
companion,  Mr.  John  Hermitage."  Handing  me  the  tum- 
bler he  took  quite  a  stiff  pull  at  the  flask  then  placed  It 
back  in  its  moorage.  Here  I  drew  out  the  card  he  had 
given  me;  but  he  reached  for  it  and  wrote  in  bold  pencil- 
hand  on  the  reverse  side:  "David  E.  George"  and  pointing 
to  the  new  inscription  handed  the  card  back.  "You  see," 
he  said,  "I  am  able  to  support  more  than  one  name,  even  at 
the  same  time  and  in  the  same  place;  but  that  is  the  name 
I  go  by  at  El  Reno  where  I  make  headquarters."  Seating 
on  the  bed  facing  me  he  explained  that  he  had  but  one 
chair  as  he  seldom  entertained,  then  looking  me  square  in 
the  eye:  "And  so  you  are  a  play-writer.  Well,"  with  a  hum- 
orous shrug  of  shoulder,  "I  never  meet  a  play-writer  with- 
out calling  to  mind" — rising  and  pantoming  dramatic- 
ally— "how  the  aspiring  youth  who  fired  the  Ephesian  dome 
outlived  the  fool  who  built  it." 

Then  shifting  his  seat  on  the  bed  he  related  a  scene. 
where  boquets  were  being  showered  on  the  actor  in  an 
emotional  role  amid  encores  that  fairly  deafened,  some  one 
ambled  across  the  stage.  "Who  is  that?"  whispered  a  gen- 
tleman in  the  bald-head  row  to  his  seat  companion.  "O, 
that's  only  the  damfool  who  wrote  the  play."  Quite  en- 
couraging," I  ventured;  "but  then  I'm  only  a  novice  with 
a  long  way  ahead  of  me  in  which  to  reform.  "Just  to  show 
you,"  said  George  as  he  excused  himself  and  drew  a  roll  of 
hieroglyphoid  manuscript  from  the  stand  drawer,  "that  I, 
too,  am  a  fit  subject  for  the  foolkiller."  Straightening  up: 
"It  is  only  in  skeleton  and  it  isn't  likely  any  one  but  my- 
self could  get  much  out  of  it,"  as  he  unrolled  as  if  to  read. 
"If  you  think  you  can  stand  it — "Anticipating  I  interposed: 
"Sure  I  should  like  to  hear  it."  After  scanning  over  a  page 
or  so  to  himself  as  if  to  get  the  thread,  with  a  few  pantom- 
ies,  he  read  aloud  in  a  truely  dramatic  tone,  with  equally 
dramatic  gestures  and  flighly  poses.  But  it  has  been  so 
long  ago  I  don't  remember  any  of  it,  except  I  now  recall 
something  about  shadows  and  "My  Lady  Fine,"  or  some- 
thing like  that.  I  remember  distinctly  he  of  a  sudden  got 
excited  and  yelled  for  the  porter  to  bring  some  wine.  The 
writer  here  exhibited  the  scene  reputed  to  have  been  a 
part  of  the  Booth  contemplated  play  at  which  the  doctor 


WANDERINGS  OF  J.  WILKES  BOOTH  119 

grew  fairly  excited  with  interest.  "That  sounds  very  much 
like  it;  and  since  you  have  mentioned  it,  I  am  now  quite 
sure  the  title  was  as  you  have — "Shadows  of  the  Past." 
This,  says  the  the  doctor  is  the  last  he  saw  of  George  ex- 
cept a  glimpse  of  him  and  some  woman  as  they  entered 
the  opera  house  sometime  in  the  forenoon  "to  rehearse,"  as 
he  supposed.  "O,  yes,"  added  the  doctor,  I  remember  that 
George  said  he  was  writing  the  play  for,  as  he  put  it,  "the 
most  charming  little  stage-witch  that  ever  captivated  an 
audience.  Loving?  Well,  so  far  as  my  experience  has 
been — more  lovable  than  loving."  I  may  also  add  that  I 
handed  George  a  few  advanced  pages  of  my  effort  to  tempt 
the  fool-killer  which  he  read  with  occasional  gestures,  then 
handing  the  pages  back,  merely  remarking  that  they  were 
really  clever,  and  if  the  plot  was  a  trifle  less  local  might 
be  worked  into  a  success." 

BOOTH   VISITS  THE  EL   RENO  THEATRE 

Mr.  Chas.  W.  Stater  whose  dramatic  company  with  Miss 
Jessie  Varsey  as  leading  woman  and  Walter  Prain  as  male 
support  was  among  those  playing  this  circuit  which  in- 
cluded Enid,  Kingfisher,  El  Reno.  Oklahoma  and  Guthrie, 
with  headquarters  at  El  Reno,  writes  from  Long  Beach, 
California,  that  he  was  personally  and  well  acquainted 
with  the  man  going  under  the  name  of  David  E.  George  at 
El  Reno;  that  he  remembers  the  many  pleasant  evenings 
they  spent  together.  He  says  one  of  George's  characteris- 
tics was  an  inordinate  appetite  for  baked  duck,  and  "he 
and  myself  frequently  went  duck  hunting  and  whenever 
we  failed  to  bring  down  any  game,  George  could  be  de- 
pended  on   * * * * We  had  baked  duck  just 

the  same.  George  told  me  that  Booth  was  not  killed  at 
the  Garrett  home,  as  was  generally  supposed,"  writes  Mr. 
Stater,  "and  more  than  once  told  me  how  he  got  away.  He 
also  said  that  Booth  visited  my  show  almost  every  night 
and  sat  in  the  roost  and  paid  my  show  the  highest  compli- 
ment. I  never  knew  that  he  was  Booth  until  after  the 
suicide;  then  I  knew  my  friend  David;  E.  George  was  in 
fact  Booth.  You  are  on  the  right  track  Mr.  Campbell. 
George  told  me  many  things,  but  it  has  been  so  long  ago 
that  much  he  told  me  has  been  forgotten.  As  to  the  play 
you  mention,  I  know  but  little  except  from  hearsay  but  am 
Inclined  to  think  you  have  hold  of  the  right  string  if  you 
can  only  follow  it  to  the  end.  Now,  friend  Campbell,  I  do 
not  care  for  notority  in  this  connection.  You  are  the  first 
soul  I  have  mentionel  the  matter  to,  not  even  to  any  of  my 
own  family." 

On  arriving  in  Oklahoma  City  a  few  days  ago  to  visit 
his  son  Gordon  who  is  in  the  law  practice  in  Oklahoma 
City,  on  being  shown  a  scene  and  a  few  lines  of  the  reput- 


118  WANDERINGS  OF  J.  WILKES  BOOTH 

remark  that  I  was  neither  in  particular  need  nor  desire. 
On  ascending  to  the  second,  which  was  the  top  floor,  I  was 
led  down  the  hallway  to  the  extreme  east  end  of  the  build- 
ing where  the  door  was  swung  open  with  a  motion  for  me 
to  proceed,  proffering  a  chair  while  he  took  a  sitting  pos- 
ture on  the  table  corner.  Then  with;  "If  you  will  excuse 
me,"  he  took  from  a  drawer  in  the  dresser  a  flask  of  bead- 
ed fury  and  from  the  mantle  a  tumbler,  remarking  as  he 
poured,  "I  will  introduce  you  to — "  drawing  the  cork 
which  he  held  in  his  mouth  as  he  decantered — "my  bosom 
companion,  Mr.  John  Hermitage."  Handing  me  the  tum- 
bler he  took  quite  a  stiff  pull  at  the  flask  then  placed  it 
back  in  its  moorage.  Here  I  drew  out  the  card  he  had 
given  me;  but  he  reached  for  it  and  wrote  in  bold  pencil- 
hand  on  the  reverse  side:  "David  E.  George"  and  pointing 
to  the  new  inscription  handed  the  card  back.  "You  see," 
he  said,  "I  am  able  to  support  more  than  one  name,  even  at 
the  same  time  and  in  the  same  place;  but  that  is  the  name 
I  go  by  at  El  Reno  where  I  make  headquarters."  Seating 
on  the  bed  facing  me  he  explained  that  he  had  but  one 
chair  as  he  seldom  entertained,  then  looking  me  square  in 
the  eye:  "And  so  you  are  a  play-writer.  Well,"  with  a  hum- 
orous shrug  of  shoulder,  "I  never  meet  a  play-writer  with- 
out calling  to  mind" — rising  and  pantoming  dramatic- 
ally— "how  the  aspiring  youth  who  fired  the  Ephesian  dome 
outlived  the  fool  who  built  it." 

Then  shifting  his  seat  on  the  bed  he  related  a  scene. 
where  boquets  were  being  showered  on  the  actor  in  an 
emotional  role  amid  encores  that  fairly  deafened,  some  one 
ambled  across  the  stage.  "Who  is  that?"  whispered  a  gen- 
tleman in  the  bald-head  row  to  his  seat  companion.  "O, 
that's  only  the  damfool  who  wrote  the  play."  Quite  en- 
couraging," I  ventured;  "but  then  I'm  only  a  novice  with 
a  long  way  ahead  of  me  in  which  to  reform.  "Just  to  show 
you,"  said  George  as  he  excused  himself  and  drew  a  roll  of 
hieroglyphoid  manuscript  from  the  stand  drawer,  "that  I, 
too,  am  a  fit  subject  for  the  foolkiller."  Straightening  up: 
"It  is  only  in  skeleton  and  it  isn't  likely  any  one  but  my- 
self could  get  much  out  of  it,"  as  he  unrolled  as  if  to  read. 
"If  you  think  you  can  stand  it — "Anticipating  I  interposed: 
"Sure  I  should  like  to  hear  it."  After  scanning  over  a  page 
or  so  to  himself  as  if  to  get  the  thread,  with  a  few  pantom- 
ies,  he  read  aloud  in  a  truely  dramatic  tone,  with  equally 
dramatic  gestures  and  flighly  poses.  But  it  has  been  so 
long  ago  I  don't  remember  any  of  it,  except  I  now  recall 
something  about  shadows  and  "My  Lady  Fine,"  or  some- 
thing like  that.  I  remember  distinctly  he  of  a  sudden  got 
excited  and  yelled  for  the  porter  to  bring  some  wine.  The 
writer  here  exhibited  the  scene  reputed  to  have  been  a 
part  of  the  Booth  contemplated  play  at  which  the  doctor 


WANDERINGS  OF  J.  WILKES  BOOTH  119 

grew  fairly  excited  with  interest.  "That  sounds  very  much 
like  it;  and  since  you  have  mentioned  it,  I  am  now  quite 
sure  the  title  was  as  you  have — "Shadows  of  the  Past." 
This,  says  the  the  doctor  is  the  last  he  saw  of  George  ex- 
cept a  glimpse  of  him  and  some  woman  as  they  entered 
the  opera  house  sometime  in  the  forenoon  "to  rehearse,"  as 
he  supposed.  "O,  yes,"  added  the  doctor,  I  remember  that 
George  said  he  was  writing  the  play  for,  as  he  put  it,  "the 
most  charming  little  stage-witch  that  ever  captivated  an 
audience.  Loving?  Well,  so  far  as  my  experience  has 
been — more  lovable  than  loving."  I  may  also  add  that  I 
handed  George  a  few  advanced  pages  of  my  effort  to  tempt 
the  fool-killer  which  he  read  with  occasional  gestures,  then 
handing  the  pages  back,  merely  remarking  that  they  were 
really  clever,  and  if  the  plot  was  a  trifle  less  local  might 
be  worked  into  a  success." 

BOOTH   VISITS  THE  EL    RENO  THEATRE 

Mr.  Chas.  W.  Stater  whose  dramatic  company  with  Miss 
Jessie  Varsey  as  leading  woman  and  Walter  Prain  as  male 
support  was  among  those  playing  this  circuit  which  in- 
cluded Enid,  Kingfisher,  El  Reno,  Oklahoma  and  Guthrie, 
with  headquarters  at  El  Reno,  writes  from  Long  Beach, 
California,  that  he  was  personally  and  well  acquainted 
with  the  man  going  under  the  name  of  David  E.  George  at 
El  Reno;  that  he  remembers  the  many  pleasant  evenings 
they  spent  together.  He  says  one  of  George's  characteris- 
tics was  an  inordinate  appetite  for  baked  duck,  and  "he 
and  myself  frequently  went  duck  hunting  and  whenever 
we  failed  to  bring  down  any  game.  George  could  be  de- 
pended  on   * * * * We  had  baked  duck  just 

the  same.  George  told  me  that  Booth  was  not  killed  at 
the  Garrett  home,  as  was  generally  supposed,"  writes  Mr. 
Stater,  "and  more  than  once  told  me  how  he  got  away.  He 
also  said  that  Booth  visited  my  show  almost  every  night 
and  sat  in  the  roost  and  paid  my  show  the  highest  compli- 
ment. I  never  knew  that  he  was  Booth  until  after  the 
suicide;  then  I  knew  my  friend  David;  E.  George  was  in 
fact  Booth.  You  are  on  the  right  track  Mr.  Campbell. 
George  told  me  many  things,  but  it  has  been  so  long  ago 
that  much  he  told  me  has  been  forgotten.  As  to  the  play 
you  mention,  I  know  but  little  except  from  hearsay  but  am 
Inclined  to  think  you  have  hold  of  the  right  string  if  you 
can  only  follow  it  to  the  end.  Now,  friend  Campbell,  I  do 
not  care  for  notority  in  this  connection.  You  are  the  first 
soul  I  have  mentionel  the  matter  to,  not  even  to  any  of  my 
own  family." 

On  arriving  in  Oklahoma  City  a  few  days  ago  to  visit 
his  son  Gordon  who  is  in  the  law  practice  in  Oklahoma 
City,  on  being  shown  a  scene  and  a  few  lines  of  the  reput- 


120  WANDERINGS  OF  J.  WILKES  BOOTH 

ed  Booth  play,  he  ejaculated:  "I  declare,  I  had  not  thought 
of  that  play  for  nearly  twenty  years,  but  now  recall  the 
situation  and  every  line  as  you  have  it.  I  recall  another 
scene  where  a  large  spaniel  makes  a  bound  as  if  to  feast  on 
lady  fingers  and  sweet  meats,  at  which  the  heroine  be- 
trays fright:  'Wouldst  take  fright  at  so  frail  a  thing,  my 
Lady  Fine,  with  charms  to  soothe  the  savage  breast.  Nay, 
nay,  If  Sir  Bowser  should  touch  thine  velvet  hands 
'twould  be  but  to  caress  them.'  With  this  the  animal 
makes  a  threatening  demonstration  toward  Devoli  who 
simply  proffers  his  hat.  Sir  Bowser,  as  Devoli  addresses 
him,  takes  a  glance  at  the  proffered  hat,  then  starts  a 
retreat,  but  stops  when  Devoli  snaps  his  finger  and  gives 
a  whistle.  'Sir  Bowser,  said  he,  'wouldst  be  rude  in  the 
presence  of  my  Lady  Fine?'  indicating  toward  his  Bowser- 
ship.  'Allow  me,'  making  a  courtsy  and  waving  with  hat 
as  if  he  were  introducing  some  nobleman  to  a  queen. 
Then  pats  Sir  Bowser  on  the  head  and  indicates  toward 
the  heroine  at  which  Sir  Bowser  sits  on  his  hinders  with 
outstretched  paw.  Turning  to  the  heroine^  'why,  my  Lady 
Fine,  I  am  pleased  to  be  your  protector,  but  you  need  none. 
Sir  Bowser's  ivories  would  sink  back  in  the  gums  should 
he  press  thine  hands  urgently,'  etc. 


Mrs.  Elliott  Alton  who  with  her  (late)  husband  did 
the  poster  billing  for  all  the  shows  making  Oklahoma  City 
says  she  was  well  acquainted  with  Miss  Jessie  Varsey, 
leading  woman  in  the  Stater  Company  which  had  headquar. 
ters  at  El  Reno,  and  had  Oklahoma  City  on  its  routing 
card;  that  she  was  one  of  the  most  lovable  characters  she 
ever  met,  beautiful  as  a  Venus,  and  acceptionally  clever 
as  an  actre3s.  Medium  height  and  passionate  bust,  large 
eyes  and  a  wealth  of  flowing  hair — a  happy  compromise 
between  the  brunette  and  blonde — just  such  a  personally 
as  would  be  liable  to  appeal  to  a  man  of  "George's"  taste 
and  temperament.  Mrs.  Alton  recalls  a  gentleman  who 
was  here  to  get  estimates  on  printing  and  posting  for  a 
play  he  said  he  was  writing  with  a  view  of  having  Miss 
Varsey  as  leading  cuaracter,  himself  as  lead  support.  The 
gentleman  referred  to  said  in  an  off-hand  way  that  he  was 
k  own  as  George.  As  Mrs.  Alton  remembeis  it  he  gave  the 
title  of  his  proposed  as  — "I  can't  really  remember,"  she 
sayn,  "but  there  was  something  about  shadows  in  it."  As  to 
the  brief  scene  and  few  lines  given  herein,  she  says  she  has 
a  dim  recollec'ion  of  having  witnessed  one  of  the  scenes 
during  a  rehearsel;  and  on  being  shown  this  scene,  she 
say  j  she  rather  thinks  they  are  about  right;  in  fact  she 
nrw  recalls  the  situation  and  at  least  a  part  of  the  dia- 
logue. 


WANDERINGS  OF  J.  WILKES  BOOTH  121 


"DON'T  MENTION  NAME  PLEASE" 

In  securing  material  for  a  story  like  this  many  snags 
are  run  against  such  as  the  person  who  gives  information 
only  on  pledge  of  name  being  withheld.  Next  to  the  evi- 
dence of  "an  eye  witness"  this  sort  is  valueless  only  as 
corroborating.  The  "eye  witness"  is  universally  introduced 
where  there  is  no  substantial  foundation.  War  books  are 
full  of  statements  by  these  vendetta  characters  of  straw, 
and  there  are  always  a  few  fools  who  take  it  as  "evidence." 
For  instance,  a  middle-aged  woman  of  El  Reno  states  that 
she  was  well  acquainted  with  Miss  Jesse  Varsey,  the  young 
actress  for  whom  "Shadows  of  the  Past"  was  written.  She 
was  also  more  or  less  acquainted  with  the  mysterious  author 
of  the  drama.  In  ff^ct,  had  often  accompanied  Miss  Varsey 
to  the  theatre,  and  one  one  occasion  had  she  and  her 
"gentleman  friend"  at  her  home  for  tea.  She  said  Miss 
Varsey  became  confidential  at  one  time,  saying  she  had 
gotten  a  fearful  secret  from  George;  that  he  was  not  the 
person  he  pretended  to  be,  after  which  he,  George,  seemed 
leary,  insistently  cautioning  strict  confidence.  She  said 
after  getting  this  secret  she,  too,  became  suspicious,  or 
rather  afraid  of  the  man.  He  was  too  realistic,  especially 
in  one  scene  where  he  is  supposed  to  go  into  a  jealous  rage. 
Miss  Varsey  said  she  became  so  alarmed  at  what  might 
happen  that  she  declared  the  matter  off  so  far  as  she  was 
concerned.  And  the  El  Reno  "eye  witness"  said  this  was 
no  doubt  the  reason  Miss  Varsey  left  the  city  abruptly  and 
unaccompanied,  buying  a  ticket  to  Chickasha,  but  really 
intending  to  go  on  to  Dallas;  that  it  was  evident  the  es- 
trangement .  had  somehting  to  do  with  George  going  to 
Dallas  sometime  afterward  where  he  took  violently  ill  and 
placed  himself  under  treatment  at  St.  Joseph's  Hospital 
there.  In  fact,  said  the  "eye  witness"  the  man  George 
seemed  a  different  person,  grew  gloomy  and  despondent 
with  endeavor  to  "drown  his  grief  in  the  bowl  of  bane." 


RELATED  TO  BOOTH,  BUT— 

An  elderly  gentleman  residing  in  a  goodly  town  not 
far  from  El  Reno  admitted  he  was  a  relative  of  John 
Wilkes  Booth,  but  wouldn't  have  his  people  know  it  for 
anything.  He  said  he  had  met  the  man  George  at  El  Reno 
face  to  fact  often  but  not  a  word  was  ever  exchanged 
with  him.  "On  one  occasion,"  he  said,  "I  noticed  George 
eyeing  me  closely,  and  if  he  had  been  observant  he  would 
have  noticed  I  was  eyeing  him  with  equal  scrutiny.  Pres- 
ently he  approached  and  a  moment  looked  me  square  in 
the   eye;    then    reaching   my   hand   gave   it    a   warm    grasp. 


122  WANDERINGS  OF  J.  WILKES  BOOTH 

turning  his  face  slightly  away.  Then  with  a  tender  look 
he  lisped,  scarcely  audible,  "You  are — "  He  again  turned 
his  face  slightly  ascant  as  a  tear  trinkled  down  one  cheek 
and  his  lips  quivered.  He  ga%e  my  hand  a  firm  grip  and 
walked  away.  I  was  sure  but  not  certain,  he  was  a  second- 
cousin  with  whom  I  had  romped  in  our  boy-hood  days; 
and  I  am  equally  sure  but  not  certain  he  recognized  me. 
That  was  the  last  I  ever  saw  of  him  until  next  day  after 
the  suicide,  when  I  visited  the  corpse  in  the  morgue,  but  I 
was  too  much  overcome  to  more  than  glimpse,  then  take  a 
first  train  for  home.  Like  the  El  Reno  woman,  the  name 
must  under  no  circumstances  be  used.  This  condition,  of 
course,  side-tracks  the  statements  of  booth  as  worthless, 
and  they  are  only  given  here  to  illustrate  what  one  has  to 
contend  with  in  gathering  material  for  a  volume  like  this. 
Mr.  Bates  could  no  doubt  have  given  much  more  in  his 
book  had  he  resorted  to  the  "eye  witness"  or  the  "by  all 
means  never  reveal  my  name,"  which  he  seems  not  to  have 
done  except  in  the  case  of  some  one  who  furnished  the 
statement  that  many  families  by  the  name  of  Roddy  resided 
near  Port  Royal,  etc.,  which  made  the  statement  practically 
worthless,  though  no  doubt  legitimately  secured  from  a 
legitimate  source. 


Mr.  J.  N.  Roberts,  young  attorney  of  Oklahoma  City, 
says  he  resided  in  Hennessey  at  the  time  David  E.  George 
was  there  and  knew  him  intimately;  that  he  and  his  bro- 
ther were  associated  together  in  the  painting  business  and 
took  small  contracts  for  various  jobs.  He  says  George  was 
a  peculiar  fellow,  rather  close-mouthed  except  when  tanked 
up,  a  condition  not  few  nor  far  between.  On  these  occas- 
ions he  would  grow  quite  glib,  and  among  other  things 
would  recite  sketches  from  Shakespeare  and  other  classic 
authors;  and  often  say  things  about  himself  which  seemed 
to  worry  him  when  sobered,  sometimes  endeavoring  to 
laugh  them  off  as  jokes.  On  one  occasion  while  under  a 
dope-spell  in  Apache  expecting  to  die,  he  made  a  confession 
to  one  of  the  prominent  citizens  that  he  was  no  common 
painter,  nor  was  his  true  name  George,  but  J.  Wilkes 
Booth.  On  getting  over  the  death-fever  he  denied  the 
confession  vehemently,  that  it  was  simply  dope-jokes,  etc. 
Mr.  Roberts  also  remembers  that  George  took  part  in  a 
play  being  staged  by  the  young  people  of  El  Reno,  but  is 
unable  at  this  date  to  give  the  name  of  the  play  or  the  part 
George  took.  Mr.  Roberts  also  remembers  something 
about  a  play  George  was  writing  for  a  Miss  Varsey  of  the 
Stater  Company,  and  had  often  spoken  to  him  about  the 
play  which  be  claimed  he  was  preparing  for  "a  little  Ven- 
us," as  he  styled  her,  with  whom  he  gave  strong  indica- 


WANDERINGS  OF  J.  WILKES  BOOTH  123 

tions  of  being  enrapt.  The  name  of  this  play  Mr.  Roberts 
has  also  forgotten,  but  is  inclined  to  think  "Shadows  of  the 
Past"  which  had  been  suggested  was  the  name — at  least 
there  was  "shadows"  somewhere  tangled  up  with  either 
the  play  or  the  plot  and  possibly  both.  "From  all  I  can 
gather,"  says  Mr.  Roberts,  "and  recalling  so  many  peculiar 
characteristics  of  George  and  occasional  remarks  dropped 
not  thought  much  of  at  the  time  but  recalled  after  the  sui- 
cide, I  verily  believe  that  George  was  in  reality  what  he 
said  he  was  when  he  supposed  he  was  dying — John  Wilkes 
Booth." 


In  a  more  recent  interview  with  Mrs.  Anstein  she  said 
to  the  writer  that  she  was  with  Mrs.  Rev.  Harper  in  com- 
pany with  Mrs.  Beers  and  Mrs.  Simmons  at  the  time  Booth 
made  his  confession.  "I  now  believe  he  intended  making 
a  confession  to  me,  but  grew  suspicious  over  the  suggestion 
I  made  when  asked  if  I  could  keep  a  secret.  I  replied  in 
such  a  careless  way.  'Why,  I'm  a  woman.'  Further,  his 
fear  may  have  been  no  less  on  account  of  the  manner  in 
which  I  answered  when  he  wanted  to  know  if  I  was  a  north- 
ern or  a  southern  woman,  to  which  I  more  inadvertantly 
than  intentionally  replied  in  a  sort  of  pickwickian  evasion, 
yet  in  a  way  that  in  all  probability  left  an  impression  that 
I  was  not  only  a  northern  woman,  but  a  prejudiced  partisan 
woman  of  the  north." 


This  calls  up  a  circumstance  related  by  Mrs.  Anstine: 
George  just  returned  from  painting  a  house  at  Lochridge, 
a  station  on  the  Fort  Smith  &  Western  between  EI  Reno 
and  Guthrie,  and  was  a  trifle  browned  and  fagged.  He 
had  started  for  his  room  when  an  elderly  man  and  woman 
canve  in  accompanied  by  a  young  woman  in  her  late  teens 
— a  niece  who  made  her  home  with  them.  It  seems  that 
while  on  the  painting  job  George  got  acquainted  with  the 
family,  including  the  niece,  who  lived  near,  and,  aj  was  his 
habit,  he  made  himself  agreeable  especially  with  the  niece 
whom  he  petted  and  flattered  on  her  rustic  beauty,  what 
an  excellent  wife  she  would  make,  and  how  unfortunate  he 
had  been  not  to  meet  her  before  becoming  so  hopelessly 
old,  and  joshing  on  that  line  which  with  him  was  only 
stage  play,  but  which  seems  to  hav  ebeen  taken  seriously 
by  the  niece  if  not  on  the  part  of  her  uncle  and  aunt, 
who  no  doubt  concluded  from  his  apparel  and  generous 
display  of  banknotes  that  George  must  have  wads  of  lucre 
and  was  only  doing  odd  jobs  for  recreation,  and  that  they 
might  as  well  have  a  bit  of  his  surplus.  On  entering  the 
hotel  the  old  gentleman  said  with  more  or  less  commanding 
that  he  had  come  to  see  "the  man  who  did. the  painting  at 


124  WANDERINGS  OF  J.  WILKES  BOOTH 

Lochridge."  At  this,  George,  who  had  not  gotten  out  of 
hearing  came  in  and  was  at  once  pounced  on  rough  shod  by 
the  uncle  while  the  niece  stood  back  timid  and  fairly  tear- 
ful. "You  damn  scoundrel,"  was  the  first  volley.  "You 
petted  and  made  love  to  my  niece,  sir!  Yes,  and  you 
promised  indirectly  if  not  in  downright  words  to  make  her 
your  wife!  And  now,  damn  you — you  came  away  and 
never  so  much  as  left  the  poor  girl  a  line.  You've  got 
the  dough  to  gallant  around  and  wear  tailor  clothes  and 
make  love  to  innocent  young  girls,  and  you  must  at  once 
make  good,  either  with  my  niece  or  come  across  with  some 
of  your  pile,  if  you  don't  by  God  I'll — "  By  this  time 
George's  temper  was  up,  and  with  eyes  that  fairly  flashed 
fire.  "You  can't  blackmail  me  for  a  cent,  you  onry — vaga- 
bond, I  once  killed  a  much  better  man  than  you,  and  there's 
the  door!  Take  a  hint  or  by  the  gods  I'll — "  with  a 
double  emphasis  on  the  "I'll."  It  is  not  thought,  says  Mrs. 
Anstine,  that  the  old  people  and  the  niece  let  any  grass 
grow  under  their  feet  on  the  homeward  track.  The  matter 
was  never  again  brought  up  by  George,  nor  did  the  old 
farmer  ever   again   visit   the   Anstine. 


Mrs.  Annette  Blackburn  Ehler  of  Hennessey,  where 
"George"  stopped  for  several  months  prior  to  going  to  El 
Reno  writes  that  she  was  well  acquainted  with  him,  she 
being  at  that  time  editor  of  the  Press-Democrat  which 
George  visited  quite  often.  "I  am  firmly  convinced  that 
"George"  was  J.  Wilkes  Booth,"  she  says.  Mrs.  Blackburn 
later  became  the  wife  of  Mr.  William  Ehler,  one  of  the 
pioneer  merchants  of  Hennessey,  and  was  one  of  th.ose  who 
recommended  that  "George"  call  of  the  writer,  then  con- 
ducting the  Waukomis  Hornet  as  one  capable  of  writing 
his  "George's"  life-story,  and  that  he  could  trust  the  writer 
t  keep  inviolate  any  thine  told  him  in  confidence.  Mrs. 
Ehler  is  a  life-member  of  the  Oklahoma  Historical  Society 
and  a  leader  in  the  social  and  women's  political  life  of 
Kingfisher  county. 


Hon.  Dan  W.  Peery  of  Carnegie,  Oklahoma,  was  well 
acquainted  with  the  El  Reno  man  of  mystery,  and  Indeed 
grew  chummy  with  him  to  an  extent  that  he  bet  ten  dollars 
with  him  one  time  on  the  Democratic  ticket  and — lost.  "I 
knew  he  was  no  common  man,"  said  Mr.  Peery,  "the  very 
essence  of  politeness  and  culture,  kindly  natured,  versatile 
and  extremely  well  posted  on  all  important  subjects — an 
inveterate  Shakespearean  juggler  who  could  quote  almost 
the  entire  works  of  the  "Bard  of  Avon."  Mr.  Peery  says 
that  George  intimated  that  he  was  a  brother  of  Senator 
George  of  Mississippi,  which  he  took  for  granted  until  ap- 


WANDERINGS  OF  J    WILKES  BOOTH  125 

pearance  of  the  Historia  article  some  years  ago.  In  this 
connection  the  writer  has  made  diligent  search  and  does  not 
find  that  the  late  Senator  George  ever  had  a  "Wandering 
Willie"  brother  or  any  other  relative,  remote  or  near,  by  the 
name  of  David. 

Ex-editor  Maxey  of  the  Kremlin  Journal  claims  to  have 
been  in  the  Ford  theatre  the  night  of  the  tragedy  nf  1865, 
and   there    saw    Booth   leap    from   the   stage.     He   declares, 
however,   that   the   Enid   suicide    was    not    Booth.     This,    al- 
though he  never  saw  Booth  but  that  brief  moment  when  the 
Ford    was    a    confusion,    and    did    not    see    George    at    all. 
Squire   F.    E.   Hills   of   Enid   was   in   Washington    when   the 
body   of   the   man   supposed   to   be   Booth    was   brought   in. 
Mayor  Ryan  who  embalmed  George  says  the  body  was  not 
that   of   Booth    and   gives    a   remarkable   reason:     That   the 
suicide    had    GREY    EYES;    although    every    one    else    with 
whom  the  writer  talked  who  claimed  to  have  known  George 
— either  at  Enid,  Hennessey,  or  El  Reno  say  without  reserve 
that  George  had  black  eyes.     Mr.   McKonkay,   of  the   Enid 
Art   Shop   was   a   photographer   at   Enid   in    1903   and   made 
photos   of   George.     He   also   knew   him   well   while    residing 
at  Hennessey.      Knew  him  as  David  E.  George  who  claimed 
to  have  come  there  from  Texas;  that  he  was  a  painter  and 
he,    Mr.    McKonkay,    was    dealing   in    paint    materials.      He 
says  George  did  no  painting  except  on  little  jobs,  and  that 
iroved  that  he  knew  nothing  about  the  business.     He  says 
George  was  a  hail   fellow   with   some,   but   rather   choice   in 
his    associates,    seemed    pleased    to    have    friends    whom    he 
could  implicitely  trust,  was  a  classical  fellow,  with   evident 
stage    leanings.     He    said    George    was    often    broke,    being 
extremely    profligate    when    he    had    funds.     He    owed    the 
landlord  at  Hennessey  a  vast  sum  of  lodging  and  board  at 
one    time,    but    finally    paid    every    penny.     He    seemed    to 
receive    regular    remittances    from    Texas,    from    somewhere 
in  Iowa  and  often  from  Canada. 

What  unseen  hand — what  unknown  force  inspired  so 
many  o  write  of  Booth  about  the  same  time — 1898?  The 
writer  had  a  few  hours  lay-over  at  a  station  on  the  Blue 
Valley  railroad  in  Kansas,  during  May,  1877 — long  before 
mental  and  wireless  telegraphy  became  certain,  a-  pile  of 
lumber  being  the  only  evidence  that  it  was  a  station.  To 
kill  time  he  did  a  lot  of  penciling  on  "scratch-paper",  one 
sentence  running.  "And  this  message  came  sfiundin*? 
through  the  hollow  chambers  of  the  air?"  So  with  the  still 
voice  of  1898.  Was  it  the  spirit  of  Booth  whisperinpf 
"through  the  hollow  chambers  of  the  air,"  to  be  uncon- 
sciously  picked    up   by   the   susceptible   ear? 


126 


WANDERINGS  OF  J.  WILKES  BOOTH 


'""" i'"";'  ;  i*v,«.:!i;^! 


*!,      -"S 


Tom  Powell,  Mayor  of  Fort  Worth  when  Pike  fainted 
on  seeing  Booth;  Temple  Houston  who  was  at  the  Pickwick 
bar  when  Pike  fainted. 

Houston  was  a  son  of  the  noted  Gen.  Sam  Houston, 
first  and  only  President  of  the  Texas  Republic.  Temple 
moved  to  Oklahoma  on  the  opening  of  the  country  in  1889 
and  went  into  the  law  practice  at  Woodward  where  his 
widow  is  now  postmistress.  An  altercation  with  Al  Jen- 
nings resulted  in  the  killing  of  Jennings  young  brother, 
although  not  by  Houston,  but  by  a  friend  who  took  up  the 
fight.  This  killing  is  claimed  was  more  or  less  responsible 
for  Jennings  becoming  an  outlaw  and  serving  time  in  the 
federal  prison  at  Columbus,  Ohio.  Being  pardoned  by 
Roosevelt  he  returned  home  and  at  once  dived  into  politics, 
being  democratic  nominee  for  prosecution  attorney  of  Okla- 
homa County;  then  came  near  being  nominated  for  gov- 
ernor on  that  ticket.  Jennings'  "Beating  Back"  in  book 
and  on  the  movie  screen  has  given  him  a  prominence  seldom 
gained  by  one  who  ever  served  a  term  as  an  outlaw,  his 
movie  having  been  on  the  screen  in  almost  every  country 
of  the  civilized  world.  As  a  side-line  Jennings  is  also  doing 
evangel   work. 


WANDERINGS  OF  J.  WILKES  BOOTH 


127 


BOOTH'S  "GOD-FATHER"  RECOGNIZES  PHOTO 

Probably    no     man     on    the 
American      stage      was      more 
competent     to     pass     on     the 
identity    of    Booth    than    was 
Joe  Jefferson,  the  eminent  ac- 
tor,   who,    on    being    shown    a 
copy    of    a   photo    witii    no   in- 
timation   except    that    it    was 
taken    in    1877,    and    the    sub- 
ject   was    known    as    John    St. 
Helen,    exclaimed    after    scan- 
ning    the     picture:     "Well,     I 
must   confess  you   have   me   in 
a    corner   in    asking   who   that 
likeness   reminds  me   of,"   said 
Mr.  Jefferson.     "It  is  not  only 
the    likeness     of   John   Wilkes 
Booth,  but  is  his  real  picture, 
although    there    is    a   trace    of 
care    and   a   sprinkle   of   years 
added    since    last    I    saw    him, 
only      a      short     time     before 
the    tragedy.     Can   it   be   pos- 
sible?" as  he  placed  his  fingers 
to  his  cheek  in  a  semi-thinking  mood.     "I  had  been  led  to 
believe  that  Booth  was  killed  at  the  Garrett  home,  although 
many  have  doubted  it.      But — well,  if  that  isn't  a  picture  of 
John  Wilkes  Booth — it  IS!"   as  he  handed  back  the  photo. 
Mr.   Jefferson    was    a   sort    of   god-father   to    Booth,    having 
taught  the  young  aspiring  Maryland  farm-boy  his  A  B  C's 
on    the    stage    taking    him    under    his    wing    at    the    age    of 
seventeen  and  grooming  him  until  he  became  a  close  second. 
On  the  same  being  shown  Junius  Booth,  Jr.,  also  with- 
out  a  hint   other  than   it   was  the   picture   of   St.   Helen   he 
declared  it  to  be  a  picture  of  his  uncle,  John  W^ilkes  Booth. 
"And  I  am  positively   not   mistaken." 


TOO  COMMON  TO  BE  CURIOUS 

To  be  singular  or  curious,  a  thing  must  be  out  of  the 
ordinary,  which  this  is  not:  That  so  far  as  the  writer's 
knowledge  runs  not  a  solitary  member  of  the  legal  fratern- 
ity was  ever  hauled  up  and  tried  for  "conspiracy"  to  either 
kidnap  or  kill  the  president,  although  hundreds,  yes — thou- 
sands of  that  profession  were  openly  and  flagrantly  known 
to  have  aided  with  means  and  counsel  in  these  alleged  con- 
spiracies, and  their  names  well-known  to  the  Union  author- 
ities, and  just  where  they  could  be  found  any  hour  of  the 


128  WANDERINGS  OF  J.  WILKES  BOOTH 

day  or  night.  One  of  these  immunists  went  so  far  as  to 
make  a  public  offer  over  his  own  signature  through  the 
Selma  Dispatch  that  for  a  certain  sum  he  wound  undertake 
to  kill  President  Lincoln,  one-half  down  and  the  other  half 
on  completion  of  the  job.  This  was  C.  N.  Baylee,  of 
Oanawa,  Alabama.  Why  such  manifest  and  distinguished 
immunity  to  a  special  class  except  on  the  theory  that  most 
of  the  prosecutors  and  trial  judges  had  at  some  time  or 
another  been  members  of  that  profession  and  as  the  lawyer 
whispered  in  the  ear  of  the  jurymen  that  "we  of  the  pro- 
fesh  must  stand  together,"  or  an  idea  to  that  import.  What 
is  true  of  the  legal  profession  is  equally  true  of  the  soldiery, 
not  one  of  who  wore  an  official  stripe  was  e  ver  hauled  up 
much  less  strung  up  on  cinspiracy  charges. 


AS  ANOTHER  INSTANCE 

As  other  cases  in  point  may  be  mentioned  Captain  Jett 
and  Lieutenants  Bainbridge  and  Ruggles  whose  aid  in 
Booth's    escape    was    admitted    and    openly    avowed.     They 

were  not  only  permitted  to  go 
free  but  were  never  so  much  as 
arrested  (except  in  case  of  Jett, 
and  then  only  to  insure  his  ser- 
vices as  escort  to  the  hiding  place 
of  Booth)  but  were  on  closing  of 
the  war  actually  accepted  into 
full  fellowship  in  the  north  as 
well  as  in  the  south — scarcely 
subjected  to  criticism.  And  yet 
it  is  questionable  if  there  is  a 
living  soul  today  who  regrets  that 
these  men  were  given  a  chance 
to  show  to  the  world  that  their 
valor  in  war  was  fully  equalled 
by  their  good  citizenship  in  civic 
life,  in  the  enjoyment  of  peace  and  comfort,  no  wreaths 
of  mourning  in  their  household  or  doling  plooms  from  the 
family  roof  on  account  of  that  vengeant,  if  not  mercinary 
spirit  which  sent  so  many  not  thus  favored  into  ignorinous 
exile  or  the  city  prepared  for  dead  criminals,  their  families 
to  go  forth  with  the  brand  of  infamy,  shunned  as  outcasts 
from  society.  That  Jeff  Davis,  General  Lee  and  the  great 
army  of  those  who  fought  to  dismember  the  government 
were  permitted  to  go  free  and  live  out  their  allotted  time 
in  pleasant  pursuits  as  honored  citizens  held  by  all  sections 
in  highest  esteem,  even  to  the  extent  of  having  vast  monu- 
ments erected  over  their  mounds. 


WANDERINGS  OF  J.  WILKES  BOOTH  129 

A  RETURN  TO  BOSTON  CORBETT 

Boston  Corbett  was  born  in  England  but  came  to 
America  upon  arriving  at, young  manhood.  His  real  first 
name  was  William,  but  as  Boston  was  the  first  landing 
place  he  took  the  name  of  that  town  and  was  never  after 
known  by  any  other,  although  regular  stipends  came  to  him 
from  England  in  his  old  name.  He  married  and  after  his 
wife  died  went  to  Baltimore  and  became  extremely  pious. 
So  much  so  that  on  meeting  a  couple  of  women  of  the 
street  one  night  he  beseeched  them  to  change  their  life  and 
live  right.  He  reached  his  room  in  a  very  shiver  of  excited 
passion  and  then  and  there  determined  to  place  himself 
beyond  the  pale  of  such  temptation,  he  drew  from  the 
dresser  drawer  a  razor  and — his  beard  was  always  of 
a  snowy  texture  and  his  voice  rather  feminine.  He  was 
an  enthusiastic  Union  man  and  entered  the  service,  enlisting 
under  the  name  of  Boston  Corbett.  He  proved  so  earnest 
and  fearless  that  he  was  placed  second  in  command  of  tne 
Booth  pursuing  party.  About  the  time  the  Booth  rumor 
epidemic  broke  out — 1898,  he  drifted  west  to  Kansas  where 
he  at  once  became  a  hero  as  the  supposed  avenger  of  the 
death  of  the  nation's  greatest  idol.  He  was  chosen  sergeant- 
at-arms  of  the  senate  where  he  created  a  wild  sensation 
by  arming  with  a  brace  of  big  revolvers  and  adjourning 
both  houses  of  the  legislature.  He  became  so  violent  that 
he  was  locked  up.  Judge  George  A.  Huron  of  Topeka  was 
appointed  guardian  to  receive  his  pension  and  look  after 
him.  He  was  sent  to  the  hospital  but  escaped  and  could 
never  be  definitely  located  thereafter,  so  Judge  Huron 
writes.  He  could  be  heard  of  being  first  in  this  place  and 
that,  but  like  the  proverbial  katydid,  was  always  some- 
where else.  Like  the  El  Reno  George,  there  were  two  of 
him  and  like  the  said  El  Reno  painter  they  differed  widely 
in  appearance  and  manner.  Boston  was  of  small  stature, 
slightly  effeminate,  whereas  the  other  was  a  large  coarse 
featured  and  mannered  individual.  The  latter  at  one  time 
lived  near  Medford,  Oklahoma.  When  Boston  Corbett's 
pension  had  accumulated  to  the  amount  of  about  twelve 
hundred  dollars,  Corbett  No.  2  put  in  an  appearance  and 
claimed  that  he  was  Boston  Corbett  and  made  affidavits  in 
order  to  secure  the  pension.  But  he  was  so  crude  that  he 
was  soon  landed  in  the  Atlanta  federal  prison,  .being  con- 
victed in  the  L^.  S.  Court  at  San  Angels,  Texas,  of  attempt- 
i""-  to  defraud  the  government.  This  spurious  "Boston" 
„,..t  ,,T^f]pv  the  name  of  John  at  places  and  William  at 
others. 


13Q  WANDERINGS  OF  J.  WILKES  BOOTH 

THE  MAN  WHO  THREW  PIKE  INTO  A  FIT 

The  following  was  written  under  Fort  Worth  date  of 
October  21,  1919,  nearly  three  years  ago,  but  got  misplaced 
and  was  not  found  until  after  the  page  preceding  had  been 
printed.     It  is  signed  by  Jos.   (or  J  as.)   Smith: 

Mr.  Editor:  While  at  the  Pickwick  hotel  a  short  time 
ago  I  saw  a  paper  with  a  small  picture  in  it  which  took  me 
back  a  good  many  years — the  middle  80'&.  I  and  Betsey 
(my  wife)  were  in  Fort  Worth  and  stopped  at  the  Pickwick. 
Along  towaids  evening  just  as  Tom  Powell  and  I  came 
from  the  bar  room  a  number  of  others  went  in,  and  in  a 
few  minutes  two  men  came  out  with  another  man  between 
them,  too  drunk  (as  I  then  supposed)  to  get  out  alone. 
He  was  pale  and  shaking  all  over,  and  I  afterwards  learned 
he  had  been  frightened  by  seeing  someone  who  he  thought 
was  dead.  We  lived  eight  miles  west,  and  when  some  three 
miles  out  a  man  was  noticed  under  a  large  post  oak  by  the 
side  of  the  road.  AVhen  I  drove  by  he  hailed  me  and  asked 
if  I  had  some  whisky.  I  told  him  I  did  not,  and  then  he 
asked  if  there  was  any  place  around  where  he  could  stay 
all  night.  At  that  time  houses  were  scarce  in  these  parts. 
I  told  him  if  he  could  put  up  with  being  crowded  he  could 
stay  at  my  house.  He  thanked  me  and  got  in  but  insisted 
on  sitting  behind  the  seat  on  the  edge  of  the  wagon  box. 
W^hen  we  got  home  he  seemed  nervous  and  so  shaky  I 
gave  him  a  pint  flask  fuli  of  good-stuff  whisky  and  he 
measured  down  about  two-thirds  of  the  flask,  but  when  I 
shook  my  head  he  kept  raising  his  thumb  until  about  one- 
third  way  down  when  I  nodded  that  he  could  have  that 
much.  "Why,  you  said  you  didn't  have  any  whisky,  but  if 
this  isn't  whisky — well — "  He  took  another  mere  taste  and 
handed  the  flask  to  me  with  thanks.  He  was  such  a  hand- 
some and  uncommon  young  man  that  I  couldn't  help  won- 
dering who  he  could  be  out  in  this  wild  sandy  country  afoot 
and  alone.  I  asked  him  where  he  was  from  and  he  said 
it  would  be  easier  to  tell  where  he  was  not  from.  I  then 
asked  where  he  was  going  and  he  said  it  would  be  still 
easier  to  tell  where  he  was  from.  Concluding  he  didn't  care 
to  talk  of  himself  I  did  not  ask  him  any  more  questions. 
After  his  drink  he  became  cheerful  and  talkative  and  after 
supper  kept  us  up  very  late  telling  funny  stories  and  getting 
off  poetry  and  such,  sometimes  in  a  drama  way  that  was 
very  interesting.  Next  morning  he  looked  so  dry  that  I 
gave  him  a  small  bit  from  the  fla?k  for  which  he  was  pro- 
fuse with  thanking  me,  and  I  told  him  he  could  take  the 
flask  with  him.  He  wanted  to  pay,  but  I  told  him  we  in 
Texas  never  let  any  one  jIctp  <-"+  of  doors  if  we  knew  it, 
nnr  be  hungry  and  never  thought  of  taking  anything.     After 


WANDERINGS  OF  J.  WILKES  BOOTH  131 


shaking  hands  with  me  and  Betsey  he  gathered  up  our  little 
Tommy  and  almost  smothered  him  with  kisses  as  he  squeezed 
him  to  his  bosom,  and  I  feel  sure  he  had  tears  in  his  eyes. 
Betsey  and  I  have  often  talked  of  the  fine  strange  young 
man,  and  when  we  saw  your  paper  we  both  declared  it  was 
a  picture  of  the  young  man  who  had  rode  out  and  stayed 
at  our  house  back  there  in  the  80's. 

Bill  Liddle  was  at  the  Pickwick  the  same  night  and 
could  no  doubt  give  you  more  about  it  than  I  can.  He 
lives  at  either  Waco  or  Wichita  Falls,  and  you  might  try 
both   places   to  be   sure. 

(Mr.  Liddle  was  written,  and  in  reply  said  he  remem- 
bered  the  circumstances  related.  .  He  says  he  and  Mayor 
Powell  had  just  taken  a  nip  at  the  bar  and  were  passing 
through  the  hotel  lobby  when  they  met  a  number  of  men 
going  in.  One  was  the  editor  of  the  paper,  another  was  old 
General  Houston's  boy,  and  one  was  evidently  from  Cle- 
burne. There  were  a  couple  of  others,  both  strangers  to 
me.  Just  as  we  stepped  into  the  hotel  a  young  man  came 
in  at  the  front  door  which  was  open,  and  after  looking  about 
as  he  twisted  at  his  mustache  and  played  with  a  small  cane 
in  the  other  hand  he  leisurely  went  into  the  bar  room.  In 
a  few  minutes  two  men  came  through  the  door  with  another 
man  between  them.  He  was  white  as  a  ghost  and  seemed 
in  a  state  of  complete  collapse.  Mr.  Powell  told  me  the 
man  was  the  distinguished  General  Pike  and  that  he  had 
fainted  on  seeing  a  dead  friend  appear  at  the  bar.  Mr. 
Liddle  gave  a  number  of  references  of  old-times  at  Fort 
Worth   and   other  near  points. 


"I  SAW  LINCOLN  SHOT"  ADENDOM 

See   Page   66. 

I  rushed  back  to  the  entrance,  and  looking  across  to 
the  President's  box  saw  Mrs.  Lincoln  standing  and  wring- 
ing her  hands  and  crying  hysterically,  while  the  Major  was 
leaning  over  the  end  of  the  box.  the  sleeves  of  his  blue 
uniform  red  with  blood  as  he  shouted:  "Stop  him!  Stop 
that  man!" 

"I  am  going  to  the  President's  box."  said  Miss  Keene. 
On  entering  we  found  a  doctor  and  a  couple  of  others  there 
making  hasty'  examination  of  the  wound.  The  President 
was  unconscious,  his  position  unchans^ed.  I  covld  see  the 
wound,  a  small  blue  spot  behind  the  rieht  ear,  not  blpedin«r, 
Hi'=;  fnce  normally  a  parchment-like  hue,  was  now  dead 
white.  Mr.  Lincoln  was  not  moaning,  not  even  breathing 
heavily — practically  still  as  if  dead.  Lyine  on  the  floor 
was  the  pistol — a  single  barrel  Derringer  with  large  bore. 

Miss  Keene  bent  over  Mrs.  Lincoln  trying  to  quiet  her^ 


132 


WANDERINGS  OF  .1.  WILKES  BOOTH 


The  gowns  of  both  bespattered  with  blood  from  Rathbone's 
wound. 

Mr.  Ferguson  here  describes  the  scene  at  the  house 
where  the  president  was  taken.  He  wholly  discredits  the 
old  gag  about  Booth  crying  "Sic  semper  tyranus"  as  he 
touched  the  stage.  He  was  more  bent  on  a  get-away.  In 
the  course  of  an  hour  or  so,  Mr.  Ferguson  wrung  down 
the  Ford  Theatre  curtain  never  to  rise  again.  The  govern- 
ment purchased  the  building  and  converted  it  into  a  mu- 
seum. 

Here  follows  a  review  and  numberless  reminiscenses, 
one  being  the  meeting  a  number  of  actors  in  a  room  near 
the  Ford,  among  them  John  Wilkes  Booth  who  occupied  a 
jovial  nonchalant  recline  on  the  bed.  Three  months  later 
Mr.  Ferguson  saw  in  that  same  room  on  that  same  bed,  the 
dying  President — Abraham  Lincoln.  The  entire  story  and 
incidents  as  given  by  Mr.  Ferguson  would  make  several 
pages,  every  line  of  interest. 


■m^^^^^ 


Referring  back  to  Booth's  Texas  confession  wherein 
he   states   that    Lieutenants    Bainbridge    and    Ruggles    stood 

guard   near  the   Garrett  home 
to    warn    him    in    case    of    ap- 
proaching   danger,    finds    full 
corroboration     in     the     state- 
ment   of    various    government 
witnesses      including      General 
David   D.   Dana   who   declaues 
that    while    in    pursuit    of    the 
fugitives    he    saw    on    a    ridge 
after   crossing   the    Rappahan- 
nock   two    cavalrymen     on    horse- 
formed     in 
^  ._  ^  the     evening 

'j^i-- /''**|,- ^f|  '      background.      Believing     them     to 
v^!^V        >ifc      V  '       t)e   Confederates,   but   not   sure    of 
it,    he    challenged    the    cavalrymen 
for  a  parle.y,  but  instead,  "they  bent 
their    necks    to    their    horses'    wethers 
and  under  spur  soon  disappeared  into 
the    heavy     underwood    between     the 
ridge  and  the  Rappahannock."     Here, 
General   Dana  says  he   abandoned  the   chase. 

Notwithstanding  the  confession  of  St.  Helen,  Mr.  Bates 
some  way  connected  it  with  the  Herrolds  and  that  though 
I  was  not  personally  acquainted  with  him,   although  I  saw 


nA/W/  )    *'r''il'l  '     ^^^^    two    cavalrymen 
f^  ( I '  •\:''''ll'v      ^^^^     whose     outlines 
--HS^Z^i!    Wi^    sillouhette      against      t 


WANDERINGS  OF  J.  WILKES  BOOTH  133 


him  a  number  of  times  in  his  younger  days,  and  recall 
numerous  allusions  to  his  family  resemblance  to  the  Bootns, 

According  to  request  from  Gen.  Dana,  Mr.  Bates  sent 
a  copy  of  the  Texas  tintype  with  no  intimation  as  to  who 
it  was  supposed  to  represent.  In  due  time  Gen.  Dana 
returned  the  picture,   stating: 

"Your  favor  of  January  8  just  to  hand,  and  I  must 
say  I  was  surprised  at  the  turn  things  took,  for  I  expected 
the  likeness  of,  or  that  it  would  have  at  least  some  of  the 
features  of  that  man  Herrold  you  wrote  me  about,  but  it 
seems  it  was  Booth  instead.  Can  this  be  J.  B.  Booth, 
brother  of  John  Wilkes?  Will  it  be  asking  too  much  of 
you  to  send  me  a  copy  of  the  confession  which  you  have? 
I   would  like  to  have  it  for  my   own   satisfaction,"   etc. 


A    letter    with    an    Upper    Zion,    Va.    postmark,    starts 
out  with  the  assertion  that  "the  people  of  this  section  take 
no  stock  in  the  George  confession.     The  record  shows  that 
he  was  killed  at  the  Garrett  home,  and  that  ought  to  settle 
it,"  etc.     What  record?     There  was  no  inquest,  no  verdict 
of  any  sort  as  to  who  was  killed  at  the  Garrett  home.     Nor 
is  there  any  record  of  any  authenticated  identification.     Not 
a  line  of  record  anywhere,  not  even  in  the  war  department. 
Nothing   but    the    newspaper    accounts    sent    out    by    space- 
writers    and    novelists    of    the    Stanard    Baker    imagination. 
True,    there    was    evidence    brought    out    at    the    conspiracy 
trial   tending   to   show   that   John    Wilkes   Booth   was   killed 
at  the  Garrett  home;  but  this  is  simply  extraneous  evidence 
brought   out  to   incriminate  certain   alleged   conspirators   on 
trial,    for    entirely    another    alleged    offense — the    killing    of 
the    President.      Booth    was    not    in    that    court,    either    in 
person    or  by   counsel   and   therefore    there   were   no   cross- 
questions.     Every  witness  had  his  say  without  let   or  hind- 
rance.    Yes,  Mr.   P.   M. — what  record?     The  letter  cites  to 
numerous  persons  who  it  says  might  be  able  to  furnish  in- 
formation   desired,    all    of    whom    were   written,   but   .=0    far 
not    a    reply    has    been    received.      Besides,    this    letter    was 
unsigned   without   even   a   hint   as  to  the   author.     The   only 
reason   it   is   accredited  to   the   postmaster   is:     He   was   the 
only  person   written   to   at  that  postoffice.     The  letter  does 
not  even  say  "yours  received,"  "in  reply  to  yours,"  or  any 
other   intimation    as   to   authorship. 

"Your  friend  at  Upper  Zion,  further  writes  Mr. 
Gibbs,  is  evidently  in  error  as  to  Captain  Jett  dying  in 
an  insane  asylum;  for  it  is  well  known  that  he  lived  a 
number   of  useful   years   after  the   conflict   and   finally   died 


13  J. 


WANDERINGS  OF  J.  WILKES  BOOTH 


in  tlie  Williamsburg  hospital  from  the  effects  of  a  wound. 
And  speaking  cf  tlie  Captain:  He  was  an  exceptionally 
bright  young  man  with  a  frank  open  countenance  that  was 
at  once  as  assurance  that  he  was  true  to  any  trust  imposed 
on  him,  mild,  yet  firm  and  active.  Another  thing  was  his 
pronounced  resemblance  to  the  Booths,  especially  to  Edwin; 
so  much  so  that  many  believed  he  must  have  been  in  some 
degree  related  to  that  household."  But  vast  inquiry  and  re- 
search  fails  to   reveal  any  such  relationship. 


One  thing  seems  clear — that  if  the  prosecution  is  no 
more  certain  as  to  who  was  killed  at  the  Garrett  home  than 
it   is   of  what   became   of   the  body,   it   is   surely   not   overly 

certain  about  anything;  not 
enough  to  warrant  paying  any 
(if  the  rewards  still  available. 
Even  Boston  Corbett  who  was 
second  in  command  and  who 
was  not  only  at  the  killing, 
but  actually  did  the  killing, 
admitted  that  he  had  never 
seen  Booth,  but  only  supposed 
at  the  time,  that  it  was  him. 
But.  shucks!  V,'hat's  the  use? 
There  are  so  many  like  the 
old  gentleman  who  on  seeing 
the  picture  of  a  giraffe  on  a 
circus  poster  declared  he  just 
knev.-  "there  haint  no  sich  an- 
imal." And  even  when  shown 
a  real  live  one  under  the  tent 
he  toddled  off  shaking  his 
head:  "I  don't  care.  I  jist  know  there  haint  no  sich 
animal." 


Still  you  are  not  satisfied  with  the  evidence  contained 
in  this  vohime?  You  must  be  like  a  circus  "razor-back" 
the  writer  once  ran  across.  Several  years  ago  one  of  the 
circus  characters  of  the  west  was  J.  T.  Johnson  who  started 
out  with  a  "Big  New  York"  tent  and  would  up  with  an 
Uncle  Tom  sheet,  a  two-piece  band,  a  goat,  his  daughter 
Mollv  and  a  couple  of  "tent  men"  known  to  circusdom  as 
"razor-backs."  While  in  Atchison  one  of  Johnson's  razor- 
backs  came  down  the  street  hatless  and  shirtless,  liable  to 
arrest  for  wearing  a  September  morn  garb,  had  not  the 
dust  of  ages  so  begrimed  the  fellow  that  no  one  could  have 
sworn  whether  he  had  a  shirt  on  or  not.  Walking  up  to 
Johnson  he  said:  "J.  T.,  I  gotta  have  seventy-five  cents." 
■"J.  T.  gave  his  Captain  Kid  mustache  a  jerk,  and  piercing 


WANDERINGS  OF  J.  WILKES  BOOTH 


135 


the  razor-back  throufrh  with  his  fiery  glance:  "Seventy-five 
cents?  Why,  what  the  hell's  the  matter  with  you?  Don't 
you  get  to  hear  the  band  play,  and  don't  you  get  to  lead 
the  goat  in  the  parade?  And  don't  you  get  to  see  my 
Mollv  walk  tlie  slack  wire?      What  more  do  you  want?     The 

earth?"  

TRICK   OF    THE    BLACK    HAND 

As   a    further   evidence   that    Booth    had   the   black   art 
down    at    a    whif    and    ancanting   finger-flip,   just   look   upon 

this  migratory  boot 
which  was  through  one  of 
those  whifs  and  finger 
flips  endowed  with  a  sort 
of  omnipresence  like  the 
redoubtable  Booth  —  on 
exhibition  in  the  Smith- 
sonian Institution  and  at 
the  Baltimore  morgue  at 
the  same  moment.  Not 
onlv  that,  but  the  proud 
spirit  down  in  that  dark 
vault  "revolted"  at  the 
idea  of  appearing  in  se- 
lect company  among  old 
Baltimore  chums  with 
only  one  boot,  command- 
ed its  presents  for  the 
bootless  foot.  But  then 
it  was  a  "rented"  boot  at 
which  the  proud  spirit 
also  revolted,  and  with 
another  whif  and  finger 
snap,  behold!  the  "rent" 
disappeared. 

This  "feet"  coupled 
with  the  calling  from  the 
tailorshop  that  dress  suit 
for  the  Baltimore  party 
and  the  gift  of  omni-presence  so  manifest  may  account  for 
the  various  "resting  places"  the  remains  have  found  during 
the  corps  corporial  ceremonies,  of  his  katydid  and  mys- 
terous — now  here,  now  there  appearance  and  disappear- 
ance in  the  flesh  the  past  half  century. 

Miss  Jennie  F.  Allensworth,  postmistress  and  general 
merchant  at  RoJlins  Forks,  Va.,  writes  that  Mrs.  E.  M. 
Baker,  daughter  of  Will  Rollins  who  owned  the  boat  on 
which  Booth  crossed  the  Potomac  lives  at  Boague,  Va.,  but 
it  is  too  late  to  get  action  on  Mrs.  Baker. 


136  WANDERINGS  OF  J.  WILKES  BOOTH 


Number  required  on  sta^e  during  performance:  Actors, 
19;  scene  shifters,  4;  carpenters,  2;  gas  man,  property 
man,  promoter,  3.     Total,  29. 

Disposition  on  stage  at  time  of  tragedy. 

A  Harry  Hawk  as  Trenchard   D  Gas  man 
B  Miss  Laura  Keene,  leading  E  Stage  manager  Wright 
C  Wm.  T.  Ferguson,  Vernon     F.   Wm.   Withers,  Jr.,   Orch. 

General  Chart. 

3-4  President's  box  18  Center  door  to  scenes 

4-5  Doors  to  President's  box      19  Fence  with  gate 


6-10   Passage   entrances 

11  Back  door  to  back  alley 

12  Door  to  dressing  rooms 

15  Governor  to  gas  light 

16  Prompter's  desk 


20  Martin   house 

21  Set   dairy   3x13x13 

22  Bench 

23  Table  and  (2)  Chairs 

26  Hole  in   wall  to  hold   door 


WANDERINGS  OF  J.  WILKES  BOOTH  137 


ILLUSTRATIONS 

Azterodt,  Geo.   A.,  in  conspiracy  group. 

Arnold,   Samuel,   in   conspiracy   group. 

Baker,  Col.  L.  C,  with  pursuing  party. 

Baker,  Lieut.  L.  B.,  with  pursuing  party. 

Bainbridge,  Lieut.   A.   M.,   aided   Booth   in   escape. 

Bates,  Finis  L.,  taking  Booth's   confession. 

Bates,  Finis  L.,  as  attorney  in  Texas,   1872. 

Booth,  Junius  Brutus,  father  of  J.  Wilkes. 

Booth,  Junius  Brutus,  brother  of  J.   AVilkes. 

Booth,  Edwin,  brother  of  J.  Wilkes. 

Booth,  Junius   Brutus,  Jr.,   nephew   of  J.   Wilkes. 

Booth,   J.    Wilkes,    in    conspiracy    group. 

Booth,  J.  Wilkes,  on  first  reward  broadside. 

Booth,  J.  Wilkes,  in  tintype  taken  in   1877. 

Booth,  J.   Wilkes,  in   1877   confessing  to   Bates. 

Booth,  J.  Wilkes,  in  El  Reno,  1899,  as  George. 

Booth,  J.  Wilkes,  in  1892  as  an  evangelist. 

Booth,  J.  Wilkes,   in   1903   after  suicide. 

Booth,  as  "George."  taken   in    1898. 

Cobb,  Sergeant   Silas  T.,  who   raised  gate  for  Booth. 

Conger,  E.  J.,  with  pursuing  party. 

Corbett,   Boston,   with   pursuing  party. 

Dana,  Gen.  David  D..  in  pursuit  for  Booth. 

DeMond,  Sergeant  F.  A.,  raised  bridge  for  Booth. 

DeMond,  F.   A.,  in   family   group,   1918. 

DeMond,  Miss  Florence,  in   family   group. 

Davis,   Jefferson,   president   confederacy. 

Ferguson,   Wm.    T.,    actor. 

Houston,   Temple. 

Herold  in  conspiracy  group. 

Herold.   Emma,   sister   of   David  E. 

Jefferson,   Joe,   actor. 

Johnson,    Andrew,    vice-president. 

McDougall,  Michael,  in   conspiracy  group. 

Morris,   Clara,   actress,   as   Genevieve. 

Powell,  Ex-Mayor  Tom  T.,  Ft.  AVorth. 

Spangler.  Ned,   scene   shifter,  in   conspiracy  group. 

Surrnft.    Mrs.    M-nrv   F...   in    f^on^niracv   group. 

Surratt,  Mrs.   Mary  E.,  separate  portrait. 

Surratt,  John   H.,  in   conspiracy   group. 

Varsey,   Miss   Jessie,   for  whom   Booth   wrote  play. 

Bryantown,    Street    View.  R-^rith  crossing  the  plains. 

Home   of   Dr.    Mudd.  Map  of  Potomac  river, 

"-me  of  Cnpt.  Sam  Cox.  Diagram   of  Ford's  stage. 

Booth   spcreted  in  wagon.  Booth's   hand. 

'To-'>e  of  Dr.  Stewart.  Booth's   migratory   boot. 


138  WANDEHINGS  OF  J.  WILKES  BOOTH 


T.-.|ru-r,-'.»0.1  I*    H 


WANDERINGS  OF  J.  WILKES  BOOTH  139 


NOMENCLATURE  IN  THIS  VOLUME 

(*)  denotes  deceased.  No  state  name  indicates  Okla- 
homa. (**)  indicates  receipt  of  valued  information,  to  all 
of  whom   acknowledgment  is  hereby  extended. 

Allen,  C.  A.,  merchant  and  P.  M.  at  Baity,  Va. 
Allen,  H.  M.,  reference  to  Booth  in  Harper's  Weekly. 
Alton,  Mrs.  Elliott,  Oklahoma  City,  knew  Miss  Varsey. 
Anstine,  Mrs.  Frank,  at  Booth's  El  Reno  confession. 
*Anstine,  Frank,  witness  to  George's  El  Reno  will. 
Admire,  Miss  Mina,  in   Kingfisher  local  cast,  1893. 
*Augur,  C.  C,  in  command  at  Washington  in  1865. 
*Arnold,  Samuel,  sent  to  Dry  Tortugas  as  conspirator. 
*Azterodt,  Geo.  A.,  hanged  as  conspirator. 
*Baker,  Col.  L.  C,  with  pursuing  party  at  Garrett's. 
*Baker,  Lt.  L.   B.,  with  pursuing  party  at  Garrett's. 
Baker,  Ray  Stanard,  writes  of  pursuit  and  capture. 
Baker,  Mrs.  E.  M.,  daughter  of  Will  Rollins. 
*Bainbridge,  Lt.  A.  M.,  Conf.,  aids  Booth  in  escape. 
Bainbridge,  Gen.  Dan  S.,  father  of  the  lieutenant. 
Bainbridge,  Ben,  brother  of  Lieut.   A.   M. 
Beeks,   W.  T.,  witness  to   George's  El   Reno   will. 
Beers,  Mrs.  Wm.,  at  Booth's  El  Reno  Confession. 
Bates,  Finis  L.,  Receives  St.  Helen's  confession. 
*Bell,  Col.,  hanged  by  government  as  Confederate  spy. 
Billingsley,  A.  P.,  postmaster  at  Port  Conway. 
Bishop,   Chas.   B.,  actor,  at  Baltimore   obsequies. 
"Boyd",  Roddy  alias,  crosses  river  with   Booth. 
*B()oths — J.    Wilkes,    Edwin,    Agnes,    Junius    Jr.,    St. 
Britton,  Hon.  Rollin  J.,  Attorney,  Kansas  City,  Mo.** 
Bronson,  Edgar  S.,  El  Reno  American,  Sec.  Press  Assn. 
Brown,  B.  B.,  witness  to  George's  Enid  will. 
*Brown,  Hon.   U.   S.,  El   Reno   Democrat,   knew   Booth 
*Browning,  W.  A.,  private  secretary  to  Vice  President. 
Burrus,  A.  C,  U.  S.  Dist.  Court  Clerk,  Tyler,  Texas.** 
*  Burroughs,  Johnny,  held   Booth's  horse. 
Camden,   Guy,   in   Kingfisher  local   cast,    189.7. 
Carleton,  Chas.,  directs  "Nevada"  at  Kingfisher,  1893. 
Carneal,  Postmaster  at  Lent,  Va.,  near  Garrett  farm.** 
Chapman,  Mrs.,  Kansas  City,  husband  at  Garrett's.** 
*Chapman,  Miss  Blanche,  on  stage  with  Booth  in  60's. 
*Cobb,  Sergeant  Silas  T.,  at  bridge  when  Booth  crossed. 
*Conger,  Everton  B.,  with  pursuing  party  at  Garrett's. 
Connelley,   Wm.   E.,   Kansas   Historical   Society.** 
Cox,  Captain,  cared  for  Booth  near  Mathias  Point,  Va. 
*Courtney,  Miss  Jennie,  in  "Our  American  Cousins." 
Davis,  .\d.j.  Robt.  J.,  War  Department. 
*Davis,   Jefferson,   president   Southern   Confederacy. 


140  WANDERINGS   OF  J.   WILKES   BOOTH 


Davis,  Lt.   Ben   J.,   Signal   Corps  photographer. 
*DeMond,    Sergeant   Fred.    A.,    at   bridge   when    Booth 

crossed.      (See  family  group.) 
♦Dougherty,  Capt.  Ed.  P.,  in  command  at  Garrett's. 
Donnelley,  M.  W.,  saw  Booth  when  Pike  fainted. 
Dufifej^,  Col.  James,  Oklahoma  City,  has  George  photo. 
Dumond,  S.  S.,  proprietor  Enid  hotel,  place  of  suicide. 
Ehler,  Mrs.  Annette  Blackburn,  Hennessey,  knew  Booth. 
Ely,  Sims,  clerk  executive  dept.,  Washington   City.** 
Eakins,  E.  A.,  Enid.** 

Evans,  Chas.   S.,  witness  to  George's  Enid  will. 
Fairgrieve,   Frank,  Enid,   mother  saw   Booth   at  Ford's. 
Ferguson,   Miss   Cussa,   Baltimore. 

Ferguson,  Wm.  T.,   actor  writes — "Saw  Lincoln   Shot." 
*Fletcher,  John,  in  charge  of  livery  stable. 
Fitzhugh,  Hon.  St.  George  R.,  Fredericksburg,  Va.** 
*Gay,  Dr.  H.  W.,  saw  Marr   (Booth)   in   Miss.,  1869. 
Garber,   Judge   Milton,   Enid,  prob.    Booth   will. 
*Garrett,  William,  saw  Roddy  at  Garrett's  home. 
Gillstrap,  Harry,  sec.  to  Emanuel  Herrick,  M.  C.** 
*George,  David   E.,    (Booth),  suicides   at  Enid. 
*George,   Willy,   devisee   in   will — unknown. 
Gore,   Hon.   Thomas   P.   writes   of   Miss   Georges.** 
Grant,  Gen.   U.   S.   billed  to  be   with   President. 
Harper,  Mrs.  Rev.  Jake,  Booth   conf. 
*Hays,  Sec.   State  John,  writes  tribute  to   Booth. 
*Harris,  Miss  Clara,  in  box   with   President. 
Hensley,    Senator   Tom,   El    Reno,   knew    Booth.** 
Hensley,   Frank,  El   Reno   Peoples   Press.** 
Hill,  Capt.   A.   P.,  Enid,  saw  Booth   in  Washington. 
Hilliard,  Capt.   Edwin,  helped   sink  Booth  body. 
*Herold,  David   E.,  hung   as   Booth   accomplice. 
Holmes,  Prof.  W.  H.,  Oklahoma  City,  saw  Booth  in  Ga. 
Hoilnway,  Judge  Wm.   T.,   Port  Royal. 
♦Houston,  Temple,  saw  Booth  when  Pike  fainted. 
Houston,  L.  N.,  Enid,  executor  George  will. 
Huron,  Judge   George   H.,   Corbett   guard. 
Jefferson,   Joe,   actor,   recognized   tintype. 
Jett,  Capt.  Willie  S.,  aided   Booth   in  Escape. 
*Jett,  Judge  J.   B.,  Minn.,  no   relation  to   Capt.   Jett. 
Jett,  Miss  Dora,  daughter  of  J.  B.,  Fredericksburg,  Va. 
Jiiley,  Peter  A.,  photographer  N.  Y.  Hist.  Society.** 
*Keene,  Miss  Laura,  in   "Our  American  Cousins." 
Levan,  Capt.   Edwin,  saw   Booth   in   Ky.   and  Mexico. 
Lane,   Harry,   actor,   Equity   Association,   N.   Y.** 
Liddle,  Bill,  Waco,  Tex.,  Saw   Pike  Faint. 
*Lieber,  G.   Xorman,  Judge  Advocate. 


WANDERINGS  OF  J.  WILKES   BOOTH  141 


♦Lincoln,    Abraham,    assassinated    by    Booth. 

I>ocke,  Hon.   Victor,  Jr.,  Ind.  Attorney,  Muskogee.** 

Lorimer,   George    Horace,    Sat.    Eve.    Post.** 

Lubbe,  Lt.  Albert  J.,  U.  S.  Signal  Corps.** 

*Maas,  Capt.,  at   Pickwick   Bar.   when   Pine  fainted. 

Madsen,  Chris,  U.   S.   Marshal,   Guthrie.** 

*McLoughlin,  Michael,  sent  to  Tortugas  as  conspirator. 

Meigs,    Captain,    in    Ft.    Worth    when    Pike    fainted. 

McComas,  Terry,  saw  St.  Helen  (Booth)  in  Texas,  1876. 

Musgrove,  Asst.   P.   M.   Clyde,   El   Reso. 

*McPhail,    Provost    to    whom    Azterodt    surrendered. 

Mize,   Miss,  in    Kingfisher  local  cast,    1893. 

Moore,    Col.    AV.    J.,    Oklahoma    City    Booth    cadavar. 

*Morris,   Clara,   Booth's   Genevieve — was   at    Baltimore. 
Moxey,  Basel,  Ford  doorkeeper,  Baltimore. 

Munsen,  F.  G.,  clerk  adj.  department,  Washington.** 

*Naylor,  N.  A.,  owned  livery  where  Booth  kept  horse. 

Nichols,   N.    B.,   editor   El   Reno   American.** 

*0'Brannon,  Dr.  A.  D.,  accompanied  Booth  on  escape. 

Parker,    Henrietta,    in    Kingfisher   local    cast    1893. 

*Pavne   (alias  for  Powell),  Lewis,  hung  as  conspirator. 

Pennick,  F.   W.,  Detroit,  Mich.,  has  photo   of  Booth.** 

Pennyman,   Enid,   undertaker   who   embalmed    Booth. 

*Pike,   Gen.   Albert,   fainted   on   seeing   Booth,   1884. 

Powell,  Hon.  Tom  T.,  mayor  of  Ft.   Worth   in   1884. 

*Powell,  Rev.  Jos.  W.,  Live  Oaks,  Fla.,  father  of  Lewis. 

Pittman,  Walter,   Buela,  Miss.** 

*Rathbone,  Maj.  N.  R.,  in  president's  box. 

"Roddy"   or  "Boyd",   crossed   river  with   Booth. 

Rollins,   Bill,  Rappahanock. 

Ross,   J.   S.,   in   Kingfisher  local   cast   1893. 

Rowe,  C.  R.,  citv  editor  Lance-Star,  Fredericksburg.** 

Robar,  Ex-chief  "Wm.  D.,  El  Reno.** 

Roby,  Hamilton,   (Roddy  or  Boyd). 

Sage,   Professor   Beatty,   Enid,   reads   Booth's   hand. 

Secane,  Lt.   Col.  A.   G.,   Signal   Corps,  Washington. 

*Scurlock,  L.  C,  at  Pickwick  bar  when  Pike  fainted. 

Scott,  Major  Hugh,  L^.   S.  Veterans  Bureau.** 

*Simmons,  Mrs.  J.  W.,  at  Booth's  El  Reno  confession. 

Smith,   Anna   K.,   devisee   in    George's   El   Reno    will. 

Smith,   Geo.   E.    (Prog),   special    friend   of   Booth. 

Smith,  Wm.  C,  book  dealer,  Cincinnati.** 

*Spangler,  Ned,   Ford   scene   man,   sent   to   Tortugas. 

Spanglcr,   Dr.,  in   Kingfisher  local   cast   1893. 

St.  Clemens,  F.  S.,  Superior  Sisters  at  Dallas,  Texas.** 

St.    Helen,    John,    (Booth's   Texas    alias),    1872-84. 

*Stanton,  Edwin   M.,  Secretary   State,   1865. 

Stater,  Chas.  W.,  Los  Angeles,  knew  Booth  in  El  Reno. 


142  WANDERINGS   OF  J.   WILKES   BOOTH 


Stater,  Gordon,  Atty.  Oklahoma  City,  son  of  Chas.  W. 
Stratford,  A.   A.,  notary  in  George's  Enid   will. 
Steuart,  Henry   L.,  Oklahoma  City,  in   re  Booth   will. 
Sturgis,  Hon.  Henry  J.,  Enid  Atty.  in  George  affair. 
Stewart,  H.   B.,  city  editor  Baltimore  American.** 
*Surratt,    Mrs.    Mary    E.,   hung    as   conspirator. 
*Surratt,   John   H.,   conspiracy   suspect. 
*Taylor,  Gen.  J.  H.,  with  Booth  at  Glenrose  Mills. 
*Thomas,  Gen.  Geo.  H.,  Oklahoma  City. 
Thomas,   Geo.   H.,  Jr.,   France   in   1909. 
*Thomas,  Conf.  Gen.  Henry  George,  McAlester. 
♦Thomas,  Conf.   Gen.   Wm."  L.,  sought  by   Mrs.   Walton. 
*Thomas,  Heck,  Lawton,  nephew  of  Henry  G.  Thomas. 
*Thornton,  Jim,  rowed   Booth   and  Herold   across  river. 
*Thrailkell,    Levi,    with    whom    Booth    crossed    plains. 
Thrailkell,    Finis    (See    family    group). 
Trdd,   Lee,  knew   Booth    in   Enid. 
Thrower,   (Crazy)    George,  El  Reno. 
Varsey,   Miss  Jessie,   for  whom   Booth   wrote  play. 
*Voorhies,  Dan   W.,  statesman  in   186.5. 
♦Wallace,   Gen.   Lew,   in   conspiracy   trial. 
Wall,   A.   J.,   New    York   Historical    Society.** 
Walton,   Mrs.   Louisa,  writes   from    Beverly,   N.   J. 
Wasson,   Hon.   Clark,  Ind.   Supt.,   Muskogee. 
*Weightsman,   Lewis  J.,   witness   in    conspiracy   trial. 
*Wells,    Provost    to    whom    Azterodt   made   confession. 
Weaver,  Hon.  Claude,  postmaster  at  Oklahoma  City.** 
White,  Miss  Marion  C,  Cavendish,  Vt.** 
Wilson,   Lawrence   True,   Washington   City. 
AVinter,   Jefferson,   actor,   on    Booth    reminiscence. 
Wood,   Chas.   O.,   witness   to   George   Enid   will.     • 
W^ood,  Capt.  A.  W.,  helped  bury  one  of  Booth's  bodies. 
*Wood,  Col.  Wm.  P.,  helped  sink  Booth's  body. 
Woodward,   Major,  helped   burn    Booth    in   quick   lime. 
*Woolard,  Col.,  Maryland  detective. 


ERRATA: — In    a    few   places    "Rutledge"    should    read 
"Ruggles".     Green     "Mount"    should    read    "Mound".     But 

the  most  annoying  error  will  be  found  on  page in   the 

last  two  words  in  an  item  about  Mayor  Ryan,  which  sh<juld 
read  "read  Hare,"  instead  of  "red  hair."  This  last  error 
was  marked  in  proof,  but  not  corrected;  again  in  the 
revise,  but  not  corrected,  and  then  in  page  prodf.  but  still 
not    corrected. 


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